Skin Deep
by Crazy Cartoon Chick
Summary: Sequel/Prequel to Celebrity Skin! What happened during those five years Hailey went missing? Rated M for language, sexuality and violence.
1. Prelude

**Prelude**

_"__Hailey, you need t' let me explain," he said shrilly, the panic in his voice evident. "I need you t' calm down before we attract unwanted attention, love." He had her by her arms, his dark eyes wide with fear. His words barely registered, her panic and fear rising with each passing second. Their guitarist lay murdered in the bath tub and the singer had fled. What kind of fuckery had she stumbled upon? Why was he cleaning up the mess? Her eyes settled to his face, seeing panic that mirrored her own. No, this wasn't happening. She wasn't a part of this! She pulled against his grip, a low whine escaping from her as she ripped her arms free. The door was right there, just feet away. He was just as quick, already there and slamming it shut, lunging towards her. "__Hailey, I need you t' calm down so I can explain...I was goin' t' tell you 'bout this...It's not what it looks like..." She struggled against the hands that clamped onto her arms again, pulling back away from him, tears burning in her eyes. He closed the short distance between them, his body pressed against hers as he fought to keep her close. She uttered a shrill noise, lashing out, feeling her hand connect with the side of his face. It took her a moment to realize he was struggling to keep them upright, his voice hot in her ear. "Hailey...Hailey, stop!" She tried to scream, her voice dying at her lips as they both went crashing to the floor._

Hailey's eyes snapped open as the small watercraft jolted again, hitting a current. Sleep had been brief and plagued by troublesome dreams. As her waking mind took in her surroundings, the dream started to fade out, the details blurring as it faded further and further into the recesses of her mind. Her surroundings were only familiar now because she'd seen them and nothing more for the past four days. The narrow confines of a small submarine that had been docked carefully in some abandoned shipyard somewhere on the east coast. She'd reluctantly followed her traveling companions to the shipyard and the small sub, even as her confusion deepened. Never mind the nagging voice in the back of her head that insisted something was amiss, she listened to Murdoc's tale of a party she had no memory of. Of the one too many drinks she'd had that caused this peculiar little black out that had stolen days from her. None of this made sense. How could she have forgotten such important details? When did Murdoc ask her to join him back to his home? Why was 2D beaten and bruised? What had happened to Murdoc to have him favoring his hand? The finger was bandaged tightly, his own body a testimony of bruises and cuts that had not come from her. Too many holes in her memory and the information given didn't fill those holes.

Across from her, sleeping soundly, was the Gorillaz singer, 2D. He'd been vague and tight-lipped on the whole matter, unwilling to give her much information beyond parroting what Murdoc had told her. Murdoc asked her to come back with him and she'd accepted. They'd thrown her a massive going away party that had her drinking her weight in some of the harshest booze money could buy. She'd blacked out completely. They had barely managed to get her onto the plane due to her inebriated state. This version of events bothered her. She'd never drank so much, she'd blacked out. It wasn't like she'd lost hours, she'd lost days! Two whole days were unaccounted for. There wasn't even a vague memory of a party starting. Shouldn't she at least remember that much? She frowned in the darkness, her eyes focusing on the sleeping man across from her. No doubt 2D knew more than he was letting on. It was the way he looked at her. The way he continuously cast worrisome looks at Murdoc. But no matter how much she tried to get out of him, he gave her the same response, repeating Murdoc's story almost verbatim.

At the helm of the small submarine, Murdoc hummed along to whatever it was playing on his little iPod, the ear buds visible in his ears. She'd tried to get more information out of him in the early moments of their underwater trip. And like 2D, he revealed practically nothing. The more she tried to remember, the foggier it all seemed. She remembered the concert, remembered some of the moments afterward in Murdoc's hotel suite, but everything after that faded into oblivion. There was that gap between those moments after the concert and when she'd come around to find herself on the small private plane with the two men, too achy and nauseous to register where their guitarist was or the other musicians. Something about their young guitarist. Something important. But even as she struggled to recall the most recent dream, knowing it had something to do with this key detail, it was too far gone now. The only thing that seemed to stick out was the utter look of panic on Murdoc's face. This was important too. Something had happened that had him scared.

Erupting into a massive yawn, she eased her body back into the small make shift bed. She was too troubled to fall back asleep and too tired to consider rising. The hour was unknown to her. The only times she knew it was late was when Murdoc would set the auto pilot on the small watercraft and curl beside her in the narrow bed almost too small for the two of them. Given his focus and preoccupation at the controls currently, it could very well be morning or mid-day. Maybe he would surface the sub again and allow them a chance to get some fresh air? The small shower stall accomplished very little in the way of cleaning other than maybe something more akin to a sponge bath and the toilet needed to be emptied. The smell within was starting to be noticed. Hailey found herself momentarily pondering over how she could identify the men by their smell. Yeah, the three of them combined made the confines of the sub pretty rank, but it was odd that she could tell who was near her based on smell alone. 2D had this peculiar clovey smell while Murdoc had this deeper muskier smell that reminded her of the woods. As for herself, all she could smell was armpit sweat and was baffled at how eager Murdoc was to get close to her when he slept. Maybe she had her own smell he liked? Or maybe he had some weird pit smell fetish?

A smile cracked across her face in the darkness, the laughter just barely passing her lips. The reasonable explanation would be the man was exhausted and didn't give a shit about their unwashed clothes. The suitcases and other luggage had been stowed away in the narrow cargo compartment in the back, inaccessible to them. Showers or not, they all were still wearing the clothing they'd been wearing on the plane and Hailey was fairly certain hers were the worst of the lot, destined for the garbage whenever they finally made it to their destination. Shame, really. She did like these clothes. But given the smell and stains, she had her doubts on whether she could salvage them or not.

Rising from the narrow cot, she let out a massive yawn. How much longer was this trip anyway? She cast a glance over towards Murdoc, who was staring ahead through the glass, steering the small submarine through the murky water. The spotlight at the front of the craft cut through the darkness, illuminating bits of reef and catching the glimmer of passing fishes as they scurried out of the submarine's path. "How much longer?" she asked finally, making her way unsteadily towards the front of the submarine. He gave no indication that he'd heard her, the ear buds still in his ears. Uttering a sigh, she tapped his shoulder. He jumped beneath her touch, pulling the buds away and staring up at her with wide eyes. "How much longer?" she repeated.

Murdoc pulled a cigarette from the battered little pack beside him, lighting it with a shrug. " 'Nother day or so, I reckon." He grabbed the pack, offering it towards her. "It's a bloody long trip, I know." Easing back into the chair, he took a heavy drag from his cigarette. Hailey watched him carefully as she lit her cigarette, dully noting that the bruises on his arms and face were faded and yellowing and he was sporting fresh bandages on his left hand. It was hard to shake the feeling that he was hiding something. Something important enough to invade her dreams. He turned his attention back to the controls, cigarette smoldering at his lip. "I'll bring her t' the surface in a bit. Give us a chance t' get some air."

Hailey returned to the cot, sinking down. She wanted to press further with the half-assed explanations he'd given behind why she was accompanying them. Wanted to pick his responses apart. But she also realized that doing so while he was steering a submarine miles beneath the ocean might not be the best time. It had an auto pilot feature obviously if he was able to hit some settings and leave the controls to sleep, but something told her that he needed to be more focused now with their destination another day away. Neither he or 2D told her where they were going. Murdoc only referred to it as home. But where was home? Were they going to England? Some other European country? Where could they be going that didn't require her to have the necessary travel documents? That was another thing that nagged at her. It was clear they were no longer in the states. She knew international travel required a lot of paperwork and often took weeks for any kind of approvals. It was part of the reason she never pursued it, no matter how often friends had urged her to do so in order to travel with them outside of the country.

She knew nothing. Remembered nothing. And the only two people who knew what had happened were not talking about it. She wouldn't have agreed to leave with him so abruptly, not without tying up the loose ends of her home, her work. She had no real bonds to the city anymore, the only solid and lengthy friendship she'd had shattered to dust the night she'd left for the concert, so those left behind weren't an extremely pressing concern. But there would have been the matter of taking her name off the lease, putting in her resignation at work and all the other mundane tasks that one goes through before uprooting themselves from their home turf. She'd left a car behind, still parked in the hotel parking garage. A bank account that would receive one last deposit before falling dormant. What about her purse? Did she even have that? This was fucking maddening, that's what it was. Two days of her life were missing and none of the explanations given made any fucking sense. Murdoc was lying, he had to be. As for the singer, he most likely was urged to repeat the lie. Keep her compliant. Keep her confused. For how long, though? She frowned in the darkness, her eyes settling back to the sleeping 2D. If Murdoc was too preoccupied with controlling the submarine, she could probably use some muscle to get more information out of the battered and bruised singer. Where was their guitarist? Where were the other musicians? Why was she there and why was it now only the three of them?

* * *

Murdoc flung open the hatch, peering outside cautiously. The island and jetty looked no different than the day they had departed, so it was probably safe to say they'd received no visitors in their absence. He was tired of the paranoia, tired of always looking over his shoulder. And what was to say any potential visitors weren't laying in wait within the house? The submarine had picked up no other craft in the water during their journey but he didn't want to feel too confident. With a grunt, he pulled himself out of the submarine, hearing both 2D and Hailey behind him. There was a small sliver of hope that Hailey would be too exhausted to assault him with questions. She'd been quiet through most of their journey beneath the water, but it was hard to escape her confused and questioning gaze. She wanted answers and he just was not in the position to give her those answers at the moment. He wasn't sure what he could tell her that would smooth this whole mess over. _Hey, you saw a broken robot and freaked out so I drugged you and smuggled you out of the country!_ Yeah, man, stellar. See how far that goes. She'd jump into the ocean and swim back to the states! There'd been some small truth to the story he'd woven. He _did _ask her to come back with him, things had just gotten so heated, she'd been unable to give an answer. Thanks to him, she remembered very little of what happened after she'd left with him and 2D after the show. Rohypnol was a curious drug. She could remember the concert itself, some visiting afterward and even bits of pieces of their moments together in his hotel suite, but conversations or anything beyond those moments were wiped clean.

He jumped down onto the jetty and pulled open the small cargo hatch in the back. Just focus on unloading and getting everyone situated within the house. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Face-Ache helping Hailey out of the sub, the two of them now standing mere feet away and staring at him. He kept his attention on unloading the cargo hatch, refusing to meet their combined stares. Maybe they could make themselves useful and start grabbing some of the bags? "Lil' help," he grunted, tossing some suitcases onto the wooden dock. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing 2D grab at some suitcases but Hailey still just standing there and watching him. "You have hands, yeah?" He knew his tone came out sharper than he intended but did she have to just stand there?

She narrowed her eyes at him as she reached down and grabbed at a few suitcases, turning away with a huff and stalking down the jetty towards the walkway on the island. Deep down he knew he was simply trying to avoid her cornering him with more questions. He was too knackered to really think at the moment and all he wanted was a hot shower and his bed. Give him a chance to rest, that was all he asked. He still wasn't sure just how he planned to explain it all to her, but he would lay it out eventually. The quick and half assed put together lie he'd spun the day she'd come around in the plane wouldn't hold water forever. He knew he'd acted on fear and impulse when he'd stowed her away in the equipment trailer. So much had started going wrong in those moments, he felt he had few other options. He probably could have taken her back to that little flat she shared with Alicia, but the option hadn't really present itself in his head until it was too late. And could he have done it if he'd thought about it sooner? Christ, he'd been so panicked at what was going on around him, driving an unconscious woman across the city was the last thing he wanted to burden himself with.

Did any of it matter now? She was there with him. Not exactly happy with him at the moment, but there all the same. At some point, he'd have to come clean. Tell her what really took place and hope she understood. Yeah, he'd hoped to be given a few days – or weeks – to finally tell her the truth, but it was clear she wasn't buying the bullshit. And he had to face the real possibility that she'd demand to be returned to Seattle once the truth was known. He wasn't sure if he was prepared for that. He did genuinely enjoy her company during the days leading to the concert. She had obviously enjoyed his company. There'd been the obvious touch of sadness in her voice when it was finally said aloud that the night of the concert would most likely be their last night together. Something had happened. Something he felt and something she felt as well. And in perfect Niccals fashion, he'd fuckered it all up. Instead of trying to do something right for once, it all blew up in his face and here he was with another stow-away.

Murdoc grabbed the last two bags, trailing behind 2D and Hailey as they made their way towards the entrance of the house at the top of the hill. He kept his gaze to the ground, following the precarious walk-way that led to the main entrance. There was only one entrance to the house and it was maybe ten yards away. Ahead of him, he could hear 2D rattling away about how big the house was, how great the kitchen was and a plethora of other things that ran together into one long annoying sound inside Murdoc's head. Couldn't the Face-Ache shut it for one bloody minute? Hailey was smiling at the half wit, responding only enough to indicate she was listening and this seemed to push him further, still blathering away. Christ, woman, don't encourage him! Grumbling under his breath, he trudged on behind them, stopping only long enough to drop a bag and enter in the door code so all the alarms and locks were disarmed. The other two lingered a step or so behind him as he hauled open the door and stepped into the narrow corridor, his eyes on the single lift resting at the back wall.

Hailey was now looking around the narrow entrance, wrinkling her nose at the mess that surrounded them. Murdoc glanced around, feeling only fleeting regret at the state of the entrance. He'd allowed it to get out of hand, now littered with the various junk he and 2D had found along the beach. Mostly just random rubbish that had washed up to the floating island of trash. Hailey's eyes were traveling over the bits of plane wreckage that flanked a far wall. "Is that from a seven-forty-seven?"

Murdoc cast a quick glance at the plane siding, giving only a curt nod as the lift opened up. "I think so. Not all that familiar with aircraft. Figured it might come in handy." Truth be told, he didn't even know why he had hauled that thing inside. It had taken both him and 2D to get it through the doorway. The piece of siding was not small by any means. Still even had a portion of the interior still attached. It had just appeared on the beach like all the other shit on this stinkhole. And with all the missing plane reports he heard on the radio or on the telly, no telling which one it came from.

Both Hailey and 2D stepped into the lift after him as he pushed the button to head down to 2D's underwater room. Drop the dullard off and then head to his quarters. Hailey was looking amongst the bags they all carried, her brow knitting together as something slowly started to sink in. Murdoc could feel the sweat breaking out beneath his shirt. She wasn't a stupid woman. The bags they carried were his and the Face-Ache's. None of them belonged to her. And she knew this. She was silent as 2D exited the lift, the doors closing behind him. Alone in the narrow car, he could feel her eyes on him now. Please let this slide until I can get some rest, he pleaded to himself. Please just overlook it for now. Her eyes were scanning him over carefully, her mouth a thin line. Sweat broke across his face, his eyes on the numbers as the small lift carried them up to the level that contained the master suite. He almost groaned aloud when it finally reached their destination. Pushing through the barely open doors, he dropped the bags when he reached the door to his room. He could still feel her eyes on him as he pulled open the door and grabbed the bags.

"Where are my bags?" she demanded, standing in the doorway. "Did we get them out of the sub?"

Murdoc paused at the foot of the bed, his teeth clenched. He could hear her step just behind him, the thud of the bags as she let them drop. What was he supposed to tell her? The lack of luggage would be the biggest give-away that the story he'd given her was a line of bullshit. He found himself unable to respond, his mind torn between the truth and some other poorly put together lie. Silence stretched between them for what seemed like an eternity before he finally exhaled loudly, closing his eyes. "I think they were left b'hind in the chaos, love."

She was staring at him with narrowing eyes when he turned to gauge her expression. The harsh lighting of the bedroom brought to his attention how exhausted she looked with her hollow eyes and greasy hair. "Left behind?" she asked suspiciously, cocking her head.

"Left b'hind," he repeated slowly, turning away from the acidic gaze. "There was so much goin' on, we didn't realize what happened until it was too late." He cracked a grin, hoping he sounded as cheery as he looked. "No worries, Poppet. I can order you some new clothes." He started to dig through his dresser, pulling fresh clothes out and setting them aside. Find her something to wear for now. Lounge-wear of some kind. He wanted to say she was around the same size as him in pants, but couldn't be too sure. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he frowned. No, her hips were a little wider. This wasn't the usual rail thin poster child for anorexia that sometimes found themselves in his company. Grabbing a second set of lounge-wear, he tossed them in her direction. "Shower's through the door there. Make yourself at home."

Never before had he been so grateful to be alone. Sitting at the edge of his bed, he listened as she showered, his own lounge-wear clutched in his hand. He was exhausted and in dire need to a good night's sleep. Why was all of this bothering him so much? Had the years of running finally taken their toll on him? He'd reached a point of desperation, hadn't he? Why else would he have gone soft and brought the woman with him. This wasn't him. Not by a long shot. She should have been left in his wake as he stormed out of that city. It was clear he'd changed in the midst of this ride when the dullard – who never picks up on anything, mind you – caught on that he was struggling with how he saw Hailey. And it wasn't so much the odd feeling of something that bothered him, it was the fact that sooner or later he'd have to spill it out and tell her the truth about what happened. And then deal with the possibility of her wanting him to take her back. And he realized that he just didn't want that. Call him fucking selfish, he wasn't ready or willing to accept such rejection.

The clink of the shower curtain brought his thoughts to a momentary halt. Raising his head, he met her blackened and hollow eyes as she slipped from the washroom clad in one of his old T-shirts and nothing else. Rising from the bed, his eyes traveled down the length of her body, pausing at her rump before moving down her legs. Conflicting thoughts or not, it wasn't too difficult to direct his mind to other things as he watched her crawl across his bed. Huffing loudly, he tore his eyes away from her arse and slipped into the washroom. Was it in bad form to try to get some before the shit hit the fan?


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Opening her eyes, Hailey blinked against the slivers of light attempting to seep through the blinds. She looked around the darkened room with bleary eyes, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The hour was unknown to her, the light coming through the slats either from the morning light or mid day sun. Either wouldn't have surprised her. They'd all been too tired to care about the time they'd gone to bed. After the plane ride and then the five and a half day submarine trip that offered little in the way of comfort or sleep, was it any wonder they were all dead on their feet upon their arrival? Murdoc had been the worst off out of the three of them. He alone had been the only one who could operate the submarine, so it had been he who slept the least. And it had clearly taken a toll on him. Within moments of exiting the shower, he'd collapsed into the vacant side of the bed, snoring almost instantly. She'd fought against her exhaustion, unwilling to succumb to sleep but in the end it had been futile. Shortly after he'd exited the waking world, she had followed right on his heels.

Now awake, she had a chance to look around and figure out where she was. While she certainly had hoped to corner him and question him further upon their arrival at this bizarre place, she acknowledged that they were all tired and needed rest. Even in sleep, Murdoc still looked exhausted. She could be a complete asshole and attempt to wake him, but decided against it. He'd wake eventually and perhaps he'd be more willing to answer her questions after he got some much needed rest. She knew something was off with the story he'd given and her own troubling dreams had proven that. Still struggling with vague and blurred images of something taking place that she had no real memory of. Dreams of a struggle, dreams of fear. Something in the bathroom. Murdoc's own terrified expression swimming in her dreams. The thing in the bathroom, what was it? Laying in the bathtub, something that was nothing more than a dark shape. She shook her head, still confused at the images that once again seemed to fade more and more into the background of her mind.

With a groan, she pushed herself off the bed, crossing the short distance to the windows. Peering through the slats, she frowned at the miles of ocean before her. So where the hell were they anyway? She could see nothing beyond the vast expanse of water. Nothing that indicated they were close to land. It made sense though, didn't it? The trip in the little submarine had lasted five days or so. Where-ever it was he'd taken her was secluded and clearly nowhere near any country she could possibly think of. It was a peculiar little land-mass. Below on the beach almost looked like any other little beach. She could see the surf, what appeared to be rocks and a few other things that indicated marine living. But why was it this grotesque pink color? She'd never encountered anything like that.

Spotting the thread-bare pair of pajama bottoms he'd initially handed to her, she pulled them on quickly, grabbed the slippers that lay at the foot of the bed and ventured out of the room to the narrow little elevator. As much as she wanted to investigate the house, she figured the best option was to start at the beach and work her way up. Maybe exploring the beach would give her a clue as to where he'd taken her? If anything, it gave her the chance to investigate the matter without the million excuses he'd given her over the last several days.

When the doors slid open, revealing the narrow entrance, she looked around at the mess that surrounded her. He had all sorts of crap in here and only a narrow pathway that ran between the main door and the elevator. Aside from the pieces of the passenger plane, she also took notice of car parts, what appeared to be a tool box, bags filled with something, a bloated stuffed alligator that had sawdust coming from an open slash on its side. Someone lost their taxidermy project perhaps? She stepped carefully around things, opening the door that led to outside. The sun was out and horribly bright, Hailey covering her eyes a moment as she stepped onto the poorly made wooden porch that extended out from the door. It wasn't high enough to be noon. Without any sense of direction, she couldn't figure out if it was late morning or mid-afternoon. Without her cell phone or watch, time was elusive and unknown. Sighing, she made her way down the steps and small walkway, pausing at the beach itself and looking around. A dock extended out directly in front of her, the submarine still bobbing in the water where he'd left it. It occurred to her that all the things she'd seen from the window that she concluded were nothing more than uneven parts of the ground or rocks were in fact just pieces of junk covered in the same ghastly pink coating. Machinery parts, what appeared to be the stern of a boat, the side of a car even. The ground beneath her feet was spongy, bringing to mind the odd soft matting used in playgrounds. It was soft and somewhat bouncy.

Venturing further along the beach, she dully noted that the island overall seemed to be constructed out of garbage. It didn't explain the bright pink coloring, but she began to suspect that maybe Murdoc had something to do with that. There was no sand, no rocks or any of the normal things one would find at a beach. Just spongy pink ground, pink coated junk and the occasional dead animal that had washed up. There was also the smell. The horrendous, eye-watering smell that seemed to be in the air and coming off the ground itself. She wasn't so sure she'd get used to the smell. The heat seemed to make it worse, smothering her and gagging her. Maybe it was time to go back up to the house? The smell barely managed to get past the walls. No doubt Murdoc had installed some sort of air filtering system to keep the smell out. She couldn't imagine him tolerating such a stench for more than a few days. Pausing, she shielded her eyes and looked up at the house itself. What had possessed him to take residency in such a place? And how the hell did he get a house built out here?

A tour of the house was in order. The island itself was small and her explorations yielded too little. Other than telling her she was on a floating island of garbage, she still was in the dark as to where she was or what had happened that brought her there. Sighing, she started the precarious trek back to the main entrance and into the main entry-way of the house. This had to be the only way in or out. She'd seen no other ways into the house. Hailey frowned in the dark passageway, shaking her head. The house's construction wouldn't have passed any fire safety laws and this led to more questions about the building of the house. How had he been able to get something this impression planted on top of a pink island of trash?

The kitchen was her first stop. It appeared to be no different than any other kitchen she'd seen in her life. A narrow fridge, counter-space, a sink and a dishwasher. Plenty of cupboards and various utensils laying about that indicated food most definitely was prepared there. Opening the cupboards revealed very little in the way of foodstuffs. Some cans of beans, a can of vienna sausages tucked away in the back, a bag of flour. The fridge was well stocked with some odd looking import beers and something in a container, but not much else. The familiar discomfort that indicated hunger could be felt and Hailey soon found herself rummaging through the cupboards and even the icebox in her effort to find something edible. The problem at hand was that there was very little food to be found and what could be found needed about a dozen other ingredients to make it work. She wasn't in the mood for a can of beans and the date on the can of vienna sausages was just too suspicious for her to take a chance. Couldn't live on beer, though she did wonder if Murdoc thought differently on that matter given the amount of beer he kept in the fridge.

Giving up on food, Hailey wandered down the hall to what appeared to be an extra bedroom of sorts. It was cluttered with furnishings and other items. His version of a junk drawer? Some of the items in the room appeared to have been simply thrown in there after he could find nowhere else to put it. Excess music equipment, a foot-stool, some boxes and possibly an extra bed. Had he set the room up for another occupant and it ended up not being necessary? Christ, all these little things that made absolutely no sense. And she was now part of this nonsense.

The next level was a study, a rather lavishly furnished study. Hailey stood there in awe, taking in the pictures, the dark wood furniture, the carpeting beneath her feet. The room was amazing. The desk was littered with paper. Some of it appeared to be mere scraps with small notes jotted down and others appeared more official. Legal documents perhaps? She hated prying into his personal business, but maybe some of it would tell her what exactly happened and where she now was. She sifted through the paperwork carefully, noting the legal documents were contracts of some sort. Record label stuff. Other documents were letters from fans, some correspondences with an accountant over in the UK, credit card bills and a few screen shots from various adult films. Unable to hold back, Hailey let out a snorting laugh as she shoved the screen shots aside. He probably had printed them off to use in his room and abandoned them for some reason or another.

Against the far wall, she noted the aquarium, her eyes settling on the ugly pink fish lingering at the bottom of the tank. Murdoc didn't seem like one who'd keep a pet of any kind, so seeing the fish was a curious thing. She inched closer to the tank, kneeling down slowly so that her gaze was level. My, it was an ugly little fucker, wasn't it? Pink like this disgusting island, its scales flaking off, bulbous eyes blind to her presence. It just floated there, the faint movement from its fins the only thing that indicated it was even alive. Wrinkling her nose, Hailey stood back up, examining the wall of portraits and other oddities that decorated the room. The massive globe near the slider door revealed itself to be a booze storage, all of the bottles opened and consumed to some point. One bottle had so little left, she wondered just why the hell he still had it. Maybe it was a super expensive brand he wanted to savor? Why not just take the last shot?

Closing the globe, she turned her attention to the pocket doors on the far wall. Was it another random bedroom turned into a junk room? Opening the pocket doors, she stood in the doorway a moment, her eyes traveling over the various musical instruments and hulking machines that could only be mixing equipment. A studio? It made sense, though. This could very well be where Murdoc, 2D and the others had made the album. She didn't linger long, closing the doors finally and crossing the distance to the elevator. This whole place was bizarre. Everything about it lacked any sense. The house itself was relatively normal by all accounts, but the location left her more and more curious. So far everything around her indicated that Murdoc and the singer were the sole inhabitants. What about the young guitarist? Hailey hadn't seen much of her outside of the concert itself, but she knew the young woman had been with them.

Inside the elevator, Hailey pushed the button that would take her to the level that contained Murdoc's bedroom, her head filled with more questions than answers. What little she remembered of the band itself told her they'd been an odd rag-tag group. Their bizarre storyline capturing the imagination of young and old alike. But it had all been a gimmick, right? A way to sell albums. The two men she'd met in the dusty lttle bar almost two weeks ago had been pretty normal to her. Well, normal as rock stars could be. Murdoc had seemed stressed and overly tired, but she'd felt nothing out of the ordinary about him that would make her think he was a serial killer or anything. If anything, once he dropped the act, he was as normal as any other guy on the street. He wasn't what one would call attractive, but there'd been something about him that seemed to draw her in. And for him, the same. Sure, their initial meeting had been all about the physical but she was keen enough to pick up something between them in the days that followed. Maybe she had agreed to go with and partied too hard? Though such an explanation seemed unfathomable, who's to say it didn't happen? A month ago, if someone had told her she'd find herself on the arm of a world famous musician, she'd have laughed at them and called them insane. And now her picture was circulating through the world, the unknown woman lucky enough to be Niccals' companion during his visit to the city.

Back in the master suite, Hailey took in the sleeping figure on the bed. Murdoc had sprawled out more with the vacancy opening up on the other side. Clad in nothing but a pair of briefs, his chest rising and falling with each wall rattling snore. Stepping closer to the bed, she peered down at his sleeping face. Most of his hair had pulled away from his face, exposing thick eyebrows that were well shaped and not nearly as shocking as one would think. There was the start of a receding hairline and part of her suspected this was his reason behind still sporting the odd and outdated cut. She could even see some patches of grey starting in some spots. Reaching out, she brushed some of his hair away from his face, smiling when he made a noise, his eyes flickering a moment. He didn't wake, rolling slowly away from her reach, burying himself deeper into the pillows.

Taking a few steps back, she slowly exited the master suite and made her way back to the elevator. Give him a chance to catch up on his sleep. Maybe 2D would be up and about eventually? It would be nice to have some sort of company while she made coffee and attempted to prepare some sort of breakfast.

* * *

Standing at the rails of the balcony, Murdoc smoked his cigarette in silence, watching the beach down below, his eyes following Hailey's progress as she combed the narrow beach. He'd awoken to find her gone from the bed. Momentarily panicked, he'd stumbled from his room in search of her, fearing she'd gone snooping or – worse yet – taken the sub in a desperate attempt to get away. He wasn't a fool. She'd come willingly only because she'd been disorientated, tired and confused. If she felt anywhere near as good as he'd felt upon waking, he knew the game was over. After rushing through the house in search of her, he'd found her in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading an outdated copy of some entertainment rag. Breakfast set out before her, two additional plates set out flanking her own. Toast and jam, the only real decent thing he'd had in the small kitchen. Thank Satan the supply shipment was due any day.

She'd said nothing as he ate the few pieces of toast offered. As a matter of fact, she'd barely taken notice of his presence through the brief and sparse meal, still casually flipping through the magazine. He'd simply chewed his food in silence, washing the bites down with some coffee in between. He'd been expecting a barrage of questions from her. His mind had gone into over-drive, readying itself for whatever she planned on throwing his way. When he'd finally finished his third piece of toast, it had occurred to him that she had no intention of cornering him then. So when was it going to be? Surely she was dying to drill him further on what had happened and why there'd been so many holes in his story. Her eyes merely surfaced from the magazine, the smile barely noticeable. It hadn't brought any real relief to his frantic nerves and mind. If anything, it had made him more anxious over what might happen.

But nothing was said and two hours after the awkward and uncomfortable breakfast, he was taking a smoke on the massive balcony, watching her as she wandered along the beach. He truly was at a loss over how to go about the mess he'd created. Usually he could run from it, but rather hard to run when you drag your problems along for the ride. Chewing his lower lip, he took a heavy drag from his cigarette, his eyes still following her progress along the surf. He'd wanted her to accompany him back home. Wanted that softness and comfort she'd offered during those nights leading up to the concert. Maybe it made him selfish in that aspect. He'd never really felt the need for companionship, not in a while anyway, and the nights spent with Hailey had re-awakened a part of him he thought dead and gone. Made him aware of a peculiar need he hadn't acknowledged for quite a few years. Now back home, he wondered if it had more to do with the amount of stress he'd been under. It had been a chaotic tour with so much going wrong that her offer of companionship, even if originally thought to be brief, had helped him immensely. But it had left him too vulnerable obviously. Had he allowed her to get too close? Had he exposed too much of himself during those nights when her simple comforts eased his troubled mind? The same could be said for her, he reasoned. He had seen some of his own personality reflected in her. The same refusal to need, the same wall. And he'd seen those same flaws break away in her. Acknowledging their shared interests and her willingness to let him close.

Exhaling loudly, he shifted his weight a bit, tearing his eyes from the woman down below. He knew he needed to come clean and face whatever hell she'd bring down onto him. No doubt she'd be angry and most likely would demand he take her back home. This was something he'd have to consider, even if the idea of rejection was a foreign thing. No woman had ever rejected him. Even when he'd been a nobody, the women had seen drawn to him and after the fame, he couldn't keep them away. Sure, they were mostly one night shags who knew their time in his presence would be short-lived, but they had still flocked to him. He never questioned it, more than happy to add another notch in his bed-post or an extra notch in theirs. What bothered him more, the idea of being rejected by a woman or the idea of being rejected by someone he'd grown a bit fond of? He couldn't be sure. Both perhaps?

Lost in thought, he hadn't heard the slider open or 2D's shuffling steps. Too preoccupied with his troubled thoughts, the singer's presence didn't even register until the man was right beside him. Caught unaware, Murdoc snapped up with a grunt, glaring at 2D. This mess was more of a headache than he'd anticipated. The clumsy fool on his right had managed to practically sneak up on him and give him a bit of a fright. He shook his head, unwilling to give the dent-head the satisfaction of knowing he'd been caught off guard. "Whadya want?" he demanded gruffly, flicking the cigarette butt off the rails.

2D merely shrugged his narrow shoulders, casting a worrisome gaze down below. "When do you plan on tellin' her what really happened?" It was a straight forward question. The very question that Murdoc had been struggling with all morning as he watched Hailey go about her day. She wasn't pressing the issue, so why was this sorry fuck giving him a headache about it? 2D was oblivious to his internal gratings, flashing a sympathetic smile. "She might not react as badly as you fink."

"Tell me, Face-ache, would you jump for joy if you knew some bloke drugged you an' dragged you away from all you knew?" He met the taller man's gaze, his dark eyes unwavering. The dent-head was an idiot, so asking him such a question would be like asking a brick. Murdoc could tell by the stupid grin on the man's face that the concept went over his head. Nobody in their right fucking mind would want to stick around under such circumstances. "She's not a dullard like you," he grumbled bitterly. "As soon as she figures out what really happened, she'll be hijacking the sub herself an' gettin' the hell out of dodge, as they say."

"I dun' fink she would," 2D protested, shrinking back a bit when Murdoc's eyes narrowed. "We talked a bit durin' the sub ride. She's confused, but knows you're lyin'." His dark eyebrows twitched, a small smile just at the corners of his mouth. "She knows the drinkin' story is bullshit, mate."

"So why isn't she up here, tearin' me hide off an' tryin' t' get her answers?" Murdoc asked, lighting another cigarette. He knew that she was aware of something amiss. He'd been dreading the whole morning for Christ's sake. Any normal person would have cornered him first chance they had. Those few times they'd been face to face, there'd been nothing in her expression that indicated questioning or even hostility. She'd appeared calm, collected even. Made him acutely aware that there was more to her than he'd thought. He'd only gotten to know her for four days at the most and what little she'd allowed him to see and know had been a massive draw for him. Now he was realizing there was a lot more to the woman. He'd spent too much time helping himself to the fake little slags who threw themselves at him, those whose personalities were as bland and thin as cardboard. Hailey reminded him of someone else he'd once known. Not so much in physical appearance or personality as they couldn't have been further apart in those areas, but in her quiet. How she could wall him off, nothing in her expressions or gestures indicating whatever she felt within. Unable to tell if she was happy, uncaring or enraged. And this bothered him immensely because the last thing he wanted to deal with was waking up one morning to find her with a knife to his throat or his precious nether-regions, demanding to know what happened.

He'd almost forgotten that 2D was standing there, watching him with thoughtful black eyes. There was only a faint smile to the other man's face, indicating that he'd picked up on something Murdoc had overlooked. "Look, mate, she finks the drinkin' tale is bullshit, but I doubt she's gonna go mental an' demand you take her back. She has nuffin' back in Seattle, said so herself..."

Murdoc frowned, watching Hailey suddenly turn around and backtrack towards the main entrance. "Her job, her best mate..." Even as those words escaped his lips, he realized that maybe they weren't as strong bonds as he'd originally assumed. He'd seen the friendship with her flat-mate burn to dust right before his eyes and he knew very little regarding her position at the ad agency she'd worked at. She had no family, no strong friendships and most likely just lived her life day by day until something else came along.

"So do you plan on tellin' her or not?" 2D asked suddenly, exhaling smoke through his nose. "You won't be able t' lie t' her forever. She knows your version of events is pure balls."

"I'll tell her when I'm good an' ready, brain-ache!" Murdoc snapped, fixing 2D in an acidic glare. "Tell me 'gain why you're here, man? Run 'long before my size nines connect with your narrow arse." He bared his teeth, still focused on the taller man. It was all the prompt the face-ache needed, the man nearly tripping over himself to get away. Once again alone, Murdoc turned his attention back to the beach below, noticing that Hailey was nowhere to be seen. He uttered a grunt of irritation, silently hoping he'd run into the lanky fuck of a singer so he could beat him within an inch of his life for tearing his attention away. Cigarette still clamped between his teeth, he stalked back into the house, hearing the lift. Most likely Tusspot making his great escape. All he could do was sit around and wait, more or less. Test the waters around him, so to speak. See how it all played out.

Opening the globe and revealing his stash, he examined the various bottles until he found something suitable, twisting the cap off with gusto. Screw using a glass. The bottle would work just fine. If anything, it would help ease his frazzled mind. He dropped into the chair by his desk, dully noting that the paperwork was more scattered across the desk. So she had been in here snooping around. Not that there was anything up here he was truly concerned about. What was so exciting about contracts and billing statements from maxed out credit cards? He cracked a grin, tipping the bottle back a bit and taking a drink. There was nothing in the house that would give her the answers she desired. He alone could give her that.

He pondered over this a bit as he took another drink from the bottle. There was no denying the weird range of emotions he'd felt in Hailey's presence during those nights leading up to the concert. She was an interesting woman with a personality and life outlook that mirrored his own. He'd had every intention of casting her out that first night after getting what he'd so desperately needed, but something weird sort of nagged within and for the first time in years, he allowed a woman to remain overnight. He figured they'd have some fun in the morning and then go their separate ways. Whether it had been the two years of unwilling celibacy or finding out the woman was a demon between the sheets, he didn't know. He just knew there'd been something about her that intrigued him enough to keep her around. She had no illusions about their little fling and initially, neither did he. He'd surprised himself when he decided to nick her number from her cell phone. What the bloody hell was wrong with him anyway? He'd only known the woman four days and the ease felt with her had been immense. He knew something was up when he actively sought her comfort. She didn't know all that troubled him, but had offered her softness and warmth regardless.

Of course, in perfect Niccals fuckery, everything had gone wrong and he was now faced with losing something good in his life once again. She wouldn't stay, not after knowing what had really gone down that night. Murdoc gritted his teeth, taking another hefty drink from the bottle. Did it make him stupid to want her comfort now to ease his heavy thoughts even when those thoughts centered around her and what he'd done? Maybe the dent-head was right and he just needed to come clean and play the next move from there. She might not be so quick to leave. Told Stu she had nothing back in the states. Had that been a hint indicating she would have agreed to return with him had he asked? The dent-head seemed to think she'd be more forgiving than Murdoc assumed she'd be. He needed to think on this some more. The dent-head was often too trusting and saw good where there was no good. Hailey may appear calm and accepting now, but Satan knows how quickly that would all fall apart once she found out the truth.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Murdoc dropped the heavy bags down, wiping the sweat from his brow. Safely secured in his little war room, he checked the monitors briefly. Both the face-ache and Hailey seemed occupied at the moment and he figured this would buy him a little time. The project that lay ahead would be a daunting one, one that would require his undivided attention and concentration. He knelt down, unzipping the bags and pulling out the various pieces, laying them out onto the table. Lower legs, upper legs, torso, arms and a head. He regarding the pieces in front of him, dully noting he'd have to remove the clothing off the thing. Though it had no real female form, it still made him uncomfortable. Its body had been based off the form of an adolescent. He gazed at the still and lifeless face that stared back at him. Though it looked very much like their Noodle, he didn't see their guitar princess. He saw a creature that looked mad as a fucking hatter with its wide glass eyes and sinister grin. Maybe putting it back together was a bad idea? It had been so bloody glitchy during the months of the tour. But he needed to find out what the cause of it was. He couldn't risk a repeat performance. Not after what had happened. It was too strong to fully control and if it went wonky again, it could cause some serious damage. He was already dealing with a tender back and broken finger courtesy of the monstrosity after it had thrown him across the hotel room.

Slipping his glasses onto his face, he bent low over the thing on the table. Turning to the tools he'd laid out before him, he grabbed a set of pliers and a ratchet. He worked from the feet up, slowly reconnecting the limbs together before connecting them to the torso. Some damage to its synthetic skin that revealed the seams to the joints, but that could take the back seat for now. He paused only long enough to smoke a cigarette, the creature now intact. Next would be to roll it onto its back and open it up to see if there was any damage inside. There were two areas to check, one in its back and another in its head, beneath the cheap wig. Could be a wiring issue or even a CPU issue. Artificial intelligence was a tricky thing. You had to find the right balance. Enough programming so it could operate on its own and calculate what went on around it, but still keeping it within his control. It still needed to take orders without question. Full sentience was too dangerous of a concept. Not that the Cyborg was that advanced, but if he had a mind to, he could rip its artificial brains out and fix it up with something that made it more human than he and the face-ache.

When he had originally built the blasted thing, the thought had indeed crossed his mind. No denying that at all. He'd even had the programming set up, using snippets of Noodle's interviews, images of her room and all the things that Noodle had loved. He'd wanted Noodle back, he didn't deny that. And realizing where his thoughts were heading in those moments as he constructed the thing, he had stopped dead in his tracks. His intentions were not sexual. He didn't see Noodle like he saw other females. He simply missed her presence. Her calm nature and deep conversations had always been stimulating. Something that they alone shared in the quieter moments of their lives while at Kong Studios. An odd connection that excluded Russel and 2D.

He shook his head, biting his lip. The odd flashback-nightmare lingering in the back of his mind. The nightmare of seeing the floating island go down into the canyon, hearing Noodle's screams amidst the roar of flames and falling rubble. It had been the end of the nightmare that shook him to his core, though. Lifting the limp form of Noodle from the ground, covering her exposed body with his jacket only to have her spring to life in his arms, that same cold and dead look he'd seen on the Cyborg's face, the words coming from her mouth cutting through him like a knife. _What are your orders, sir?_

He knew it was guilt that brought the nightmare. Guilt over his hand in her disappearance. The helicopters that had shot the island down were from the Black Clouds, the very same pirates who still hunted his hide several years later. He'd screwed them over one too many times. And their attack on Noodle had been a message to him. They'd taken away the one thing that had kept him, Russel and the dent-head in check. No matter how much they fought, how much they'd grown to despise one another, it had been her who made them all forget why they were always so pissed off at each other. And with her gone, Kong fell to utter ruin and the three remaining band members drifted apart. Reckon it was better that way. By the time they'd parted ways, Murdoc and Russel were almost to blows with the skiddish 2D fluttering around like a fucking scared little dog. Murdoc knew he'd been an absolute horror. If not drunk, he'd been high as a fucking kite on some grade A whizz. There'd been other things going on in the background, more personal issues in Murdoc's life and it had left him more agitated than normal and more prone to indulge in things most thought he'd left behind. Noodle's disappearance had come in the wake of another person close to him exiting his life. He'd already been in a state over that mess and then with the El Manana incident happening so close on its heels, he'd finally just given up and turned to all the things that really didn't bring comfort, but helped him cope and forget.

Murdoc paused in his thoughts, the narrow secret room coming back into his focus. He hadn't given any of this much thought in some years. He'd simply shoved it all down, put the walls back up and ensured those around him found him as unpleasant as possible. He didn't want anyone close. He'd lost the only two people who had given a shit about him. Frowning, he glanced at the security monitors, seeing Hailey in the study with a book opened before her. He'd had so much stacked on his plate when he'd met her. The knowledge that he was a hunted man all while trying to juggle the tour schedule. There had also been the added stress of making sure the Cyborg didn't glitch out and making sure the singer didn't try to make another dash for it. Add to this all, the realization that it had been a good two years or more since the last time he'd gotten his rocks off with a willing female. He'd been too paranoid, too stressed and too fucking scared. The Clouds knew his weaknesses well enough and he wouldn't have put it past them to slip a female assassin in to take him out. Draw him in, fuck his brains out and then slit his throat. That would have been a helluva headline, no? Bass God Murdoc Niccals found dead in hotel room with a slit throat and raging boner.

Unable to help himself, he erupted into a low laughter before turning his attention back to the Cyborg. He rolled it over, exposing its back. He'd found Hailey at a time in his life when he truly didn't need it. But he'd allowed her a bit closer than he normally would allow, eager for the willing body and simple comforts she offered. Couldn't deny that he wanted it. Helped him forget the issues at hand, even if only for a few hours or a night. He'd felt peculiar that night before the show, seeking her out. It hadn't been sex he sought, just her presence. And she had sensed his need and accommodated him. Never mind the late hour or the fact that she had to get up for work the next morning, she'd been willing to put her needs aside for the moment and tend to him. It had been in those moments that his thoughts had turned to whether or not she'd be willing to offer her presence and comfort beyond the night of the concert. It was a huge thing to consider. He hadn't tossed around the idea of long term companionship in several years. He'd had more one night shags than actual relationships in his life, so he knew he'd probably fuck it up in some way, but he was willing to give it a shot again and if it meant learning from scratch, so fucking be it.

He didn't want Hailey to leave, that was all there was to it. Frowning, he pulled the wig back from the back of the Cyborg's head, exposing the sealed compartment that opened up and allowed access to its inner workings. He unfastened the screws quickly, setting them aside and pulling the little lid away. Met with wires and a narrow motherboard, he reached for some more tools and bent low, narrowing his eyes to focus on the cables. One of the cables looked damaged, the rubber coating melted away. The exposed copper was frayed against the connections. Wired incorrectly perhaps? Rather like him, he thought dismally. Whether it was genetics or the decades of substance abuse, he knew he was damaged goods. Little things set off an astronomical temper and he almost always lashed out physically. He acknowledged that this wasn't normal and would eventually lead to his end or serious bodily injury but couldn't help it. Wasn't Hailey the same in some fashion? She had admitted to a less than stellar childhood, though the gorier details had been spared. They'd had a mutual understanding and mutual liking for the darker aspects of human sexuality. They simply understood each other without having to really speak. He wanted that as much as humanly possible. Someone who knew what he meant without having to explain in depth, someone who wanted the same as he wanted when it came to the more physical activities he enjoyed, someone who would know when his demons came too close to the surface and either gave him his space or drew him close without him having to ask.

Returning his focus back to the inner workings of the Cyborg's artificial brain, he snipped away the frayed end, readjusting the wire back into its connections and found a few other troublesome areas to adjust. Hopefully this was all the blasted machine needed. If it went buggy again, he'd probably have no other choice and simply have it destroyed. Shut it down and chuck it into the ocean. He wasn't about to keep it around if it became a true liability. He cracked a grin, certain that everything was now connected properly. He screwed the opening back up and covered it with the wig. Turning to its narrow back, he used a flat-head screwdriver to simply pry the covering off, revealing another series of cables and the flashing lights that indicated its power supply. He flicked the switch, shoving the covering back down and backed away. It moved slowly, raising itself up to a sitting position on the table. "What are your orders, sir?"

"Nothin' at the moment," he murmured dismissively, pulling his glasses from his face and setting them aside. While it had been nice to have its voice programming operational, hearing it talk still unsettled him. Noodle's voice but not Noodle's voice. He glanced over at it, still in its nude state. "Put your clothes back on." It gave only a curt nod and began to redress itself. He'd need to get it to the charging cupboard, but it would mean bringing it back into the open. Part of Hailey's confusion lie with the disappearance of their guitarist in the wake of things. He couldn't just pop into the study with it at his side. Probably give the poor woman a coronary! No, he needed to keep it down here for the time being. If he couldn't get things properly sorted, he'd wait until Hailey was asleep again and smuggle the thing to its cupboard then.

He turned his attention back to the security footage playing out before him. 2D could be seen in his room, tooling around with one of his keyboards. Hailey was no longer in the study, only catching a quick sight of her as she rummaged through the kitchen to prepare a mid-day meal. The supply shipment had come just the other day, the three of them ecstatic over the prospect of something other than canned beans or toast and jam. Beans didn't agree too well, their distance with one another having more to do with being intolerant of each others noises and the smells that followed. Murdoc had determined that 2D was the worst o the lot, though Hailey came to a close second. The first blast had brought them to tears with their laughter and gagging, the poor singer blushing a brilliant pink. 2D had eaten more than Murdoc and Hailey combined so it wasn't entirely unreasonable for him to get hit the worst. For a skinny bastard, he sure could knock some walls down. It also had exposed some of Hailey's more immature side, the woman erupting into hysterical laughter before letting loose one of her own. Murdoc had sat there at the table, staring at both of them with feigned disgust before he felt his own stomach make the familiar noises. What was it about toilet humor that brought out such immature behavior?

All that aside, the supply shipment had been a godsend. Able to eat foods that didn't turn them into the toxic avengers. He watched the small monitor with curiosity, unfamiliar with the various items Hailey had lined up along the counters. Welly, well, well, it appeared he had scored quite the catch with this woman after all. She knew her way around a kitchen. Neither he or the dent-head down below were very good when it came to food preparation. Sure, Murdoc could whip up a decent steak and baked potato, but that was the true extent of his culinary skills. He had lived on mainly take out and frozen fare. 2D was an absolutely waste in a kitchen, ruining even jarred pasta sauce. Couldn't even trust the blue-haired twerp to make Kool-Aid. Murdoc leaned into the control panel of the monitors, watching as Hailey turned the various ingredients into some form of bread or pastry, if the mixing bowl was any indication of something. Bloody hell, she could bake? Smiling at his good fortune, Murdoc turned towards the door. "Stay down here," he demanded, casting a quick glance at the Cyborg. It simply sat at the edge of the work table without a word, its green eyes following him as he opened the door and stepped out.

After making the tedious climb up the stairs and emerging in the study, Murdoc went straight to the lift. Upon his arrival in the kitchen, he could smell the sweetness of something, his stomach reacting within mere moments. He watched as she stirred the contents of the bowl, only pausing to check the consistency of whatever it was. Inching closer, Murdoc craned his neck to see the bowl's contents better. He had no idea what she was making but no doubt it would be fucking delicious. Her stared at her back, noting again that she was in another one of his thread-bare t-shirts and lounge pants. He needed to set up a supply order and get the poor woman some clothes. Tucking away the mental note for another time, he moved closer, seeing her back stiffen and head perk up, sensing the additional presence. "Why you being a creeper?" she asked, not turning to look at him.

"Came up for a beer," he lied, turning towards the fridge. "Makin' somethin' good, I hope." Grabbing one of the brown bottles of lager, he uncapped it quickly and chucked the cap towards the rubbish container Hailey had pulled out from beneath the sink. Lazily, he took a drink from the bottle, leaning into the counters across from her. They'd been back now for forty-eight hours and she still hadn't bothered to corner him for the truth. Perhaps she just figured she needed a holiday and decided to roll with it? Oh hell's bells, wouldn't that be a delight! Watching her move around in front of him brought his mind to other things he was missing. They shared a bed but little else since arriving at the island. He'd considered approaching her the night before, but had stopped dead in his tracks when her icy gaze met his. The same woman who had practically ripped his shirt off in her zeal to get him naked just barely over a week ago now barely gave him a passing glance. It was fucking maddening, that's what it was!

"Cake," she said flatly. "With home-made butter frosting. Figured Stu deserved a treat after we embarrassed him like we did." She peered over her shoulder at him, her face still stony and walled off. "I found some pasta sauce and lasagna noodles in the cupboards. How does lasagna sound?"

He honestly didn't care what she made, anything sounded good after two days of shit. But what was all this crap about treating that dim wit downstairs to a fucking cake? "Err...a cake for the brain-ache, is that what you said, love?" His eyes widened when she nodded, returning to the mixing. So did this mean he wouldn't get any of it? Fucking hell, it wasn't even baking in the oven yet and he could smell the sodding thing! He watched as she poured the contents of the bowl into the baking pan, using the spoon to spread the batter as evenly as she could. Murdoc shook his head, not wanting to believe his ears. "I want cake too."

"Relax, you'll be able to have a piece," she muttered with a touch of annoyance. She grabbed the pan and pulled open the over, bending low to shove the cake in. Murdoc kept his eyes fixed on her arse as she did this, feeling the familiar discomfort below his belt. Unable to gauge her mood, he took a breath, willing himself down. She shifted a bit, still bent to the oven, adjusting the pan so the cake would bake evenly. Christ, she was doing this on purpose! His body moved forward before his brain could catch up, staring at her backside as it moved and twitched. His fingers had barely whispered across her hip when he heard her voice from the oven, the tone just as icy as the look he'd received last night. "Might want to remove those fingers before I break them."

"Now c'mon, Poppet," he snapped, jerking his hand away. "That's not necessary!"

She stood up, slamming the oven shut as she turned towards him. "I think it's more than necessary," she growled, narrowing her green eyes. "You won't tell me the truth. I've fucked around this shit-hole for two days waiting for you to say something and all you do is either avoid me or try to feel me up. And don't give me the same bullshit line you gave me when we were on the plane." Her anger was well controlled, he had to give her that. Still, she was angry all the same. He knew she'd finally erupt at some point. She had stepped towards him, her eyes still nothing more than slits, teeth bared as she closed in. Murdoc found himself backing away, groaning internally when his backside hit the counters behind him. She stood barely a foot from him, scanning his face over carefully. "Do you plan on telling me the truth yet?" she hissed.

"I told you what happened," he said, struggling to keep his voice level and expression placid. "Not my fault you dun' believe me." He reached into his shirt pocket with shaking hands, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "How 'bout you remove yourself from my bubble, eh?"

Her face was red, the anger boiling over into rage. He found the sight both fascinating and frightening. The level of control she had was awe-inspiring. Every muscle in her face was tensed, her mouth nothing more than a thin line, but she merely stood there, glaring daggers at him. Lighting his cigarette as casually as he could, he offered the pack towards her. He was too vulnerable at the moment and knew she could take a cheap at him and hit him in the jewels should she have a mind to. Best to act as nonchalant as possible. She took the cigarette offered with stiff movements, allowing him to light it. "Of course I don't believe you," she said in a husky whisper, smoke pouring from her mouth. "I can smell your bullshit from here, Murdoc. There are too many holes in your version of events."

"Lovey, you were drinkin' some quality hooch, if memory serves me correctly," he said through a nervous laugh. "It would be a bloody miracle you even remembered your name!" Ah, yes, let's just dig a deeper hole! He'd never get out of this in one piece if he kept it up. And she was fit to fucking kill. He took another shaking drag from his cigarette, his eyes still on her. "Why is it so hard t' believe I wanted you t' come back with me?" It was a cruel move to pull, he knew this. Twist it just right to make her doubt herself. "Why is it so hard t' believe I fancied you 'nough t' want t' share my world with you? I thought we enjoyed our time t'gether, Hailey...I know I did. Or were you just usin' me like the hundred other lil' groupies that crossed my path?"

Some of the enraged expression melted away, her narrowed eyes relaxing. Pay-dirt, yes! He'd found the chink in her armor. Her tensed mouth opened a moment, no sound coming out. Frowning, she stepped away from him, huffing loudly. "I wasn't using you," she protested, shaking her head. "And I did enjoy our time together..."

"So...why are you breakin' me balls 'bout this, woman?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I enjoyed our time t'gether 'nough t' want you t' come back with me. I wanted you here with me. Isn't that 'nough?" He reached out, touching her arm, still feeling the heat radiate off of her in her frustration. "Coulda had a hundred women jump at the chance, Hailey...an' you were the lucky one."

"I just want to know how I got here!" she said, the pain now hinting her voice. "Why can't you give me a straight answer!" She pulled away from his touch, the anger starting to bubble over the brim again. He had to maintain the angle he was aiming for. Make her question herself, make her feel rotten for doubting him. He watched as she reached into the fridge, uncapping one of his beers. "Murdoc, I lost two damned days. The last thing I remember was being with you in the hotel suite and then suddenly I'm on an airplane. You say I blacked out from drinking too much. Had I only lost a day, I could almost believe it...but two?"

He cracked a nervous smile, taking another drink from his own beer. "Hailey, I've lost full weeks in the midst of some heavy partyin'. Two days is nothin', I'm tellin' you." He chuckled for emphasis, watching her carefully as she took another drink from the beer, cigarette still burning in her hand. Just maintain the direction he'd managed to drag her down and keep her there. Focus on the fact that he'd chosen her when he could have had any woman he wanted. "Is it so horrible t' be the one I wanted when I coulda easily just shagged you, cast you aside an' ran with some other bird? Do I need t' spell it out t' you? Dun' you feel the same? I thought we had somethin' rather interestin', Hailey."

He caught the odd twitch in her eye that indicated he'd chiseled away a little more of that wall. If her furrowed brow was an indication of anything, he'd wager she was thinking hard about what he was telling her. It was an interesting little personality flaw, he had to admit that. Not something he'd anticipated. Hinting that he had enough affection for her to want her to come with but idly circling around the accusation that she didn't share the feelings. Her eyes met his again, her rage dissipating. "I'm confused," she whispered, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Yeah, you're not the only one, Poppet," he grumbled with feigned hurt, a more sinister voice in the back of his head laughing at how he'd been able to turn this around so quickly. He took another drink from his beer, trying in vain to hide the triumphant smile that kept trying to crack across his face. She turned away from him, muttering to herself as she tended to the clean up by the oven. Draining what remained of his bottle, he shot it towards the rubbish container, allowing the smile to break free when it landed into the destined target. He was feeling a bit more himself now and this made him feel better. With a bit more swagger to his step, he approached her from behind, gripping her hips. "Lasagna sounds stellar, by the way."

She was stiff beneath his hands and he furrowed his brow in mild confusion. Slowly, she turned, the small smile of invite clear on her face as she pressed herself close, one hand now lazily playing with the hair at the back of his neck. He could feel the tremors running through his body as her other hand dropped down to the front of his jeans. "You like that?" she murmured in his ear, massaging him carefully.

"Fuck, in the worst way," he breathed. Now this was a pleasant change of events. He had been thinking about nothing but for the past couple of days. Her hand pressed a bit harder, her movements firmer. Christ, should they fuck there in the kitchen or take it back to his room? All his thoughts jumbled together when her hand slid down the waistband of his jeans, the skin on skin contact almost too much to bear.

"Really?" she purred, her hand moving faster. He peered down at her lowered head, feeling her grip intensify. She had him against the counters, her body pressed tight to his. "Hmm...Murdoc?"

His voice came out thick and raspy, focusing on the feel of her hand. "Yeah...?"

All the good feelings came to an abrupt stop, her hand gone replaced by her knee as she started to apply more and more pressure into his aching balls and erection. The more pressure she applied, the more uncomfortable it became and he was pinned, unable to get out from beneath her. "Don't play games with me," she snarled icily, her eyes burning. "Your little mind fucks might work on your singer and all the other little tramps you've had in your bed, but they won't work on me." More pressure, his erection fading as the pain started to take over. "Did you really think I wouldn't see through that shit?"

The pressure of her knee was gone and Murdoc found himself massaging his aching crotch, only vaguely aware that she'd turned her back to him again to work on the dinner plans. What the hell just happened here? He found himself unable to think or put together a straight sentence. She was oblivious to his presence now, humming to herself as she went to work on making the lasagna. Still rubbing himself, he straightened up, flashing her a glare. This was not how he'd planned things would go. A little observatory voice pointed out that this woman had not only saw through his bullshit, she knew exactly what facial expressions and body language to convey to make him believe she bought it all hook, line and sinker. And then she'd turned it all right around and had him by the balls, quite literally. He would never had guessed anything like this from her when he'd first met her. Should he be amazed or scared out of his wits?

She turned away from the counter, her face showing mild irritation. "When you're ready to tell me the damned truth, let me know and I'll fit you into my busy fucking schedule. Until then, don't even think about touching me." She returned back to her task, leaving him in stunned silence.

Flashing her a dirty look, he stalked from the kitchen to the lift, slapping the button hard. Looks like he was going to have to figure out the next course of action. His normal line of fire failed. Part of him insisted he was stubborn enough to call her bluff, but would it really be worth it? Might as well just toss her into a crate and ship her back to Seattle. As the lift carried him up to his room, he rested his head against the cool walls of the narrow car. Back at square one, Murdy ol' boy. You have two options available at this point. Just send her home now and move on or spill it, get it over with and let her determine the next move.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

2D sipped his coffee and flipped through a his magazine. It was a simple entertainment rag, gossiping about the lives of the rich, famous and peculiar. He found himself lingering over a picture of that Kim broad, wondering just what exactly was so special about her and her family to garner such attention from the paparazzi. She was nothing more than a wealthy nobody who got lucky with a reality show. His eyes caught an article about some grunge rocker bird and there'd been this mental observation that she hadn't aged well. Mention of her late husband, another grunge rocker who offed himself like twenty years ago. Taking another drink from his mug, he dully observed that he'd need a refill. He loved reading that shit. Used to be fun when their names appeared in the rags. Maybe it was an ego thing. Though most of the time, any mention of them wouldn't be accompanied by something pleasant, they'd appeared in the paper nonetheless. He'd hoped there would be mention of them in this issue, but so far he'd found nothing. He didn't expect anything regarding their final stop in Seattle, but if he was correct about the date of the issue he was reading, they'd have been somewhere in the mid-west.

That part did worry him a bit. The satellite channels had picked up the local Seattle news about the concert. Murdoc had given a brief statement, but little else. It was a possibility that the entertainment rags would pick it up eventually. Might have done so already. He was reading an issue that was over a month old. They'd been back at Point Nemo now for a good week. How could the entertainment rags not snatch onto this? Murdoc had left a destroyed hotel room, a missing woman and a handful of confused musicians in his wake. The news footage rolled, the anchorman talking over the brief footage of the destroyed hotel room.

Chances were, the next issue of the magazine might have a mention of something. The abrupt end to the tour had made both national and international news finally. What amazed 2D was the fact that Hailey's disappearance had made little news. Only their local channel aired her information and only one anchorman had pointed out the connection to the tour. There had been absolutely nothing else outside of that. 2D didn't know whether to feel sad for her or happy that her face wasn't flashing across millions upon millions of telly screens. He figured with her disappearance tying to the concert, there'd be a bit more news surrounding her disappearance. And when little else was said outside of her last being seen at the concert itself, he'd wondered it Murdoc had anything to do with that. She'd been on the man's arm during their entire stay practically and not one of the local news station mentioned that she'd last been seen with that rotten bastard. There'd even been security camera stills showing her standing with 2D and Murdoc at the bloody hotel, the three of them standing in the lobby waiting for the lift.

Hailey had caught the brief news snippets about her disappearance. 2D had even caught something registering in her face when her former flat-mate appeared on the telly, pleading for Hailey's return. When her physical stats were read off, she'd given a mumbled "I'm not a hundred and fifty pounds, assholes." This had almost made 2D burst out laughing. But amazingly, she said little else. The singer was pretty certain that she would be drilling Murdoc for answers now. She'd just watched proof that at least part of his tale was utter bullshit. If anything was said between them, 2D was left in the dark. He did notice that they were rarely ever in the same room together. And when they were, they didn't say much to each other. Murdoc did seem a bit more agitated and more than once 2D had caught the man eyeballing Hailey with the normal predatory gleam in his eyes. Was it safe to say she'd cut him off? Not that he wanted to know these things, but seeing the coolness between them and Murdoc's frustration led the singer to assume the man hadn't been able to touch the woman.

The one thing 2D certainly appreciated about Hailey's arrival was the abundance of good and hearty home-cooking. Mostly American fare, but home-cooking nonetheless. She mentioned a dish called eggplant parmesan and suggested they order some additional produce in the next supply shipment. Murdoc had loudly vocalized his utter refusal to eat such a dish, but 2D was interested enough. They'd be due to order more food and other items within a few weeks, and Hailey had gone about making a list of all the different things she'd need to keep their bellies full. It certainly was a wonderful change of pace after nearly two years of frozen entrees, various junk foods and then take out when they'd been touring. She knew her way around in the kitchen and prepared whatever she could with what was on hand. The cake she'd made him had been the biggest treat, as far as he'd been concerned. A simple vanilla cake with butter cream frosting. What made it all the more wonderful was how she took a single piece for her and an even smaller single piece for Murdoc before shoving the whole cake at 2D, telling him to take it down to his room and enjoy. The look on Murdoc's face had been downright hilarious. Mouth agape, eyes wide with shock but narrowing dangerously at both the singer and the woman, who had merely smiled at him, patting his mid-section. "You could spare to lose that," she'd muttered cruelly before taking her piece and wandering off.

She catered to Murdoc's more basic needs, but little else. Kept him fed, occasionally brought him a drink and that was about it. With 2D she was warm, chatty and willing to talk about anything. 2D had to admit that he enjoyed this torture enough to engage her as often as he could, knowing it pissed Murdoc off and had him fit to burst. She was all but ignoring the bassist yet flaunting her easy going friendship to the singer. 2D knew he was playing with fire. He knew it whenever he passed Murdoc through the house, feeling the man's fiery eyes burn into him. Even when it had been some slag from the local pub, Murdoc had shown a possessive and even jealous streak. He'd beaten the singer countless times for so much as looking at the women sideways. 2D could only imagine the pain that would await him. Murdoc would corner him eventually. If he was so eager to inflict pain on 2D for simple greetings to one night shags, what kind of damage would he do for the crime of talking to a woman he'd grown fond of?

Draining what remained in his coffee mug, he uttered a dull noise as the chills ran down his spine. This whole thing with Hailey had been an interesting development. 2D normally made a point to ignore the bassist's personal business when it came to women. He'd seen the man successfully fuck his way around the world during the height of their music career. But he'd picked up that something was different during the more recent tour. The man was too alert, too edgy. He'd sometimes wander to a local pub but 2D never heard anyone accompany him back. Come to think of it, during the whole six months of the tour, 2D had never seen him with a woman. There were some who certainly fit the man's bill, but Murdoc had taken little notice of them. Hyper-focused on the abomination he'd built, which had been constantly malfunctioning and super attentive to his surroundings. He knew the man was at the breaking point, but hadn't expected it to affect him so badly. 2D had no idea how long it had been for Murdoc, not really wanting to know, but feeling pity for the man all the same.

Seattle had been only the second city 2D got a chance to explore since the horrid tour had started. Surprised when Murdoc had suggested they go and check out the local wildlife. He should have known better, really. Murdoc had finally succumbed to his more primal needs and was ready to go on the prowl. The singer never asked Murdoc how long it had been, but he suspected it had been a while. They went to the first pub they stumbled upon, some little dive-looking place called Curry's. Murdoc had swaggered in like a king, looking around a bit before dragging 2D to a darkened booth towards the back corner. It had given them a perfect full view of the small pub. 2D hadn't really cared anymore, happy to be out and with a drink in front of him. Murdoc had nursed his drink carefully, dark eyes scanning the pub. When the door chimes alerted the patrons of newcomers, 2D found himself even looking to see who had come in. Two women and a bloke were lingering in the entryway, cheerily greeting everyone. The two women were actually a bit nice on the eyes. Dressed casually, smiling at everyone. He found himself staring at the tall blonde, wondering if she'd be Murdoc's intended target. She was pretty and had a massive set of knockers. The shorter brunette was pretty in her own way and 2D realized that Murdoc wouldn't care which one he got his hands on. Indiscriminate to what he shagged as long as it was a willing female. The intended target made itself known when the brunette broke away from her friends and wandered to the bar, chatting it up with the bartender. The blonde, while pretty, was hanging onto the bloke they'd come in with. Murdoc had learned the hard way in previous years not to target taken women.

2D cracked a smile as he refilled his coffee, thinking back to those moments. Murdoc had been out of his seat almost instantly, moving in for the kill. The woman had joined them at their table, smiling and friendly with them both. Murdoc had been going out of his skin having the woman so close and there'd been some amusement in watching her rebuff his aggressive advances. Being shooed away to dance, 2D had gladly done so, not wanting to witness any overly disgusting spectacles. If it had been as long as the singer suspected, Murdoc would probably fuck her right there in the booth first chance he had. Of course, that was if the woman finally gave in and allowed the swine to fully get his hands on her. 2D had danced, glancing back at the booth every so often. It would have been bloody great to see the woman slap him upside the head and storm off. Not all women found the bassist's lewdness sexy and more than one had struck the man when he'd gotten too aggressive or perverted for their tastes. There had also been the fact that Murdoc was known for his rough and aggressive likings in bed. It hadn't taken long for the brunette to finally give in and 2D had found himself sneering in disgust at the sight of them in the booth table, the woman practically in Murdoc's lap, the bassist's hands already beneath her shirt, their mouths pressed tight.

What had made the whole situation so peculiar to 2D was realizing that Murdoc had decided to keep the woman around. She'd emerged from his hotel suite mid-morning, his marks visible on her arms and throat. When Murdoc had emerged moments after she'd finally departed, all 2D could focus on were the numerous bruises, scratches and what appeared to be bite marks that marred the bassist's upper body. Some off hand remark about nicking her phone number. So she wasn't going to be another one night romp? This had been new to the singer. Murdoc keep a bird around after he'd gotten what he wanted? The progressing days leading to the concert had been too odd for even 2D and their entire existence as a band had been one odd happening after another. Murdoc actually fancying a bird enough to seek her company as often as he could? They'd visited her during her lunch break and she'd accompanied him to some costume party. And after the millionth break down from the Cyborg, Murdoc had gone out after fixing the thing up and hadn't returned until the next morning, the woman's familiar scent all over him. It had been too amazing to really believe. Murdoc had taken a shine to her. As aggressive as him behind closed doors but also seeming to relate to the man in ways that eluded 2D. Suspicions were confirmed when he'd overheard Murdoc talking to himself, trying to figure out the right way to ask the woman if she wanted to come back with them.

Well, now she was here and things were less than pleasant. But mostly due to Murdoc's own bullshit. Just like every other scheme, things had gone haywire and the man did the first thing that came to mind: run away as far as he could. Only this time, he'd dragged Hailey along for the ride. And he'd managed to retrieve 2D before making his rushed exit. 2D had been wandering the city, unsure of where to go or who he could call when he'd spotted the man casually walking towards him. He'd attempted to run, but the other man was running on adrenaline and madness, tackling 2D in an alley. After a thorough beat down and some snarled threats, 2D had finally given up and allowed Murdoc to drag him back to the hotel.

Hunkering back down at the table, 2D returned his focus to the outdated magazine. Things weren't necessarily bad being held captive by the bastard bassist. He was allowed a run of the house and able to explore the beach when the mood struck, but they were isolated from everything. Other than the satellite telly, there was nobody to interact with. Having Hailey there did ease some of the loneliness, even if he knew it infuriated Murdoc to see them so friendly with one another. 2D suspected the only reason Murdoc hadn't cornered him and beat him within an inch of his life was because of Hailey. Or he was just waiting for the perfect opportunity.

From outside the narrow kitchen, he could hear the lift and the muffled but familiar hacking cough. Speaking of the fucking devil, yeah? 2D watched as Murdoc lurched in, shirtless and cigarette hanging from his lip. The bassist looked his usual charming self, most likely spending last night in his study, drinking what booze he had available. Another cough erupted from him, his chest rattling as something wet got shaken loose. 2D cringed when Murdoc paused with a grimace on his face, spitting whatever had come up into the sink. "Disgustin'," he said, wrinkling his nose. "You couldn't do fat in the toilet?"

"Fuck off," Murdoc growled, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and pouring his coffee. Turning to 2D, he scrubbed his free hand across his face. "Feels like somethin' shit in my mouth..."

"Drownin' yourself in Sailor Jerry will do fat t' you," 2D said with a shrug, returning to his magazine. His eyes surfaced briefly, catching Murdoc's icy glare. The bastard was definitely hungover. His dark eyes were bloodshot and sunken, his face greasy and unshaven. 2D gave a small dismissive shrug, not wanting to catch Murdoc's anger this early in the day. He was a fucking beast when he was not feeling well. He watched the man with careful eyes, wincing when Murdoc wedged his arm behind his back and stretched, a loud rippling crack echoing through the kitchen. Chewing his lower lip, he glanced back up at Murdoc. "Fat sounded painful."

Murdoc grunted in response, saying little else as he drained his mug of coffee and refilled it. Yeah, definitely hungover. And his suspicion that Murdoc had passed out in the study seemed more plausible. It would explain his cranky and disheveled state. "Didn't feel like sleepin' in me room," he muttered, glancing at the singer.

"She kick you out?" 2D regretted the words as soon as they passed his lips. Murdoc had turned to him, his weary eyes narrowing to slits. "Sorry, Muds...I juss meant..."

"Dun' start," Murdoc snarled, closing in on him. "I get 'nough grief from her, I dun' need it from you, face-ache!" He stood there at the table, glaring down at the singer. 2D wondered what was going through that booze sozzled brain. He was tired, sore, hungover and cranky as all fuck. Saying anything further could set the man off like a powder keg. Still glaring at him, Murdoc stubbed out his cigarette and lit a fresh one. "I know you enjoy watchin' this bullshit."

2D frowned, shaking his head. "Not really. I juss wonder who's gonna crack first." No doubt Murdoc knew he was lying. He was enjoying it just a bit too much. Murdoc was used to getting his way and getting what he wanted. Hailey wasn't caving and she was pushing back just as hard.

"Well it won't be me," Murdoc grumbled, exhaling smoke. "Even with you helpin' her..."

He turned back to the cupboards, muttering under his breath about something he could hold down. 2D shook his head, flipping the page of the magazine. "I'm not helpin' her, you drunken fool." He wasn't really sure whether he was or wasn't. He was just glad to having someone there to talk and laugh with. And there was a spot of joy in seeing how riled up it got Murdoc, even if the man was trying like hell to hide it.

"I'm not blind or stupid, fucktard," Murdoc hissed, turning back towards him. He was closing in again, his body and face tense. "I see you hangin' all over her. Hand gettin' old, mate? Think you might get t' tap it?"

"No more fan you," 2D hissed defiantly, meeting Murdoc's acidic glare. "B'sides...why would I want your sloppy seconds?" He knew he was dancing on dangerous ground. The last thing anyone wanted to do was egg on a stressed out, sexually frustrated and hungover Murdoc. But he couldn't deny the joy he felt seeing the shocked look on the other man's face. Completely taken by surprise at 2D's abrupt backbone. "She's pretty an' all, Murdoc, but no fanks..."

"Dun' play thick with me, you lil' son of a bitch," Murdoc snarled. "You haven't had a woman in a'most two years an' now there's one here for you t' play with. I see it a mile 'way. Territory's been marked an' you know it. Back off." 2D should have figured it would lead to this. The man's jealous streak couldn't be contained. Part of him did wish Hailey was there with them. He could already sense the rising tension and knew one wrong word could set Murdoc off. If she were there, he might not be so prone to lash out.

"Christ, why dun' you juss go wank off in the bloody toilet an' get it outa your system!" he snapped, maintaining his level gaze. He could already see the man bristling. Murdoc's agitated state was not something to poke and prod at. Grinning maliciously, he flashed a dark look up at the bassist. "Maybe if you're good, she'll make _you_ a cake..."

"Thin ice, dents," Murdoc snarled, taking a few deep breaths. He was struggling like hell to control his rising anger. 2D wasn't sure whether he should be frightened by this or continue to enjoy the agitation that was so clear on the man's face. "An' I mean it...I dun' wanna see you hangin' on her. Dun' wanna catch you near her. I won't hesitate t' break your fuckin' legs."

"Maybe if you weren't such a swine, she wouldn't have t' turn t' someone else for company." He uttered a squeak when Murdoc's eyes widened in surprise, his face flushing. The remark didn't just enrage him, he was incensed. Instinct kicking in, 2D shot out of his seat, hearing the heavier footfall behind him. Behind him, a noise could be heard. Something deep and dangerous sounding that sent ripples of fear down his spine. He focused on the doorway, hoping he'd make it. He might not be able to escape bodily injury forever, but if he could get to the lift, it could buy him a day or so. The sound behind him grew louder and louder, the footsteps behind him picking up momentum. When his forward motion stopped suddenly, he let out a groan, realizing the chilling sound he'd been hearing was Murdoc.

Snarling with rage, Murdoc flung 2D backwards into the kitchen, his eyes locked on the singer as he stumbled across the kitchen, bracing his thin frame against the counters to keep his balance. Murdoc put himself between 2D and the only means to escape. He was enraged, 2D could see it plain as day now. Casting his still burning cigarette aside, Murdoc rolled his neck on his shoulders, the bones cracking loudly. "Picked a fuckin' rotten time t' grow a set, fucker," he snarled, flexing his hands.

"Go an' cool off," 2D snapped back, adrenaline now pumping through him. He knew there was no reasoning with the other man now and anything else said might end up with a trip to whatever hospital was nearby. But he was tired of walking on eggshells with the bastard. Tired of always watching what he said or did. He had no ill intentions on their guest. He didn't want her, not like what Murdoc was implying. He was just glad to have a friend, someone he could talk to. "She might be more accommodatin' t' your needs if you fuckin' told her the truth! Fat's all she asks! So why dun' you grow a set an' fess up t' your bullshit!"

Murdoc let out a short snarling laugh, cracking his knuckles. "Oooh, I'm gonna enjoy this..." He closed in on the singer, grinning when 2D realized there was no escape. He kept his black eyes fixed on the enraged man who was drawing a fist back, ready to unleash some of his frustration on him. The blow hit his gut with a force that surprised him, his air coming out in a gasp. He felt Murdoc's hand close on the back of his shirt, the world spinning out of focus briefly before he found himself slammed face down into the counters, Murdoc's hand clutching the back of his neck painfully. The next blow hit him in the side of his head, stars and colors flashing before his eyes. Another blow, another. 2D struggled to get free of the vice grip Murdoc had on his neck, sputtering and screeching as the blows came down. The pain shook through his entire body, lungs still struggling for air. He was abruptly pulled away from the counters, Murdoc clutching at the front of his shirt, his eyes steely as he slammed 2D against the cupboards. "Still wanna dance, D?" he hissed.

2D shook his head weakly, tasting blood in his mouth. Just like old times, right? Say one wrong thing and find yourself on the bad side of Murdoc's fists. Every part of him ached, his head now thudding painfully, pressure building in his ears. When he felt Murdoc's grip release, he slumped into the counters. He knew he'd been playing with fire when he continued to egg Murdoc on. Why had it felt so good to see the shocked look on Murdoc's face? It wasn't the first time he'd stood up to him, necessarily. Granted the previous times he'd done so, he'd never gotten that far with his own war of words. Murdoc was too miserable and hungover to react as quickly as he normally did. Could be worse, he reasoned. The fucker could have continued beating him until the sun went down right? He could still remember with crystal clarity when the man's beatings had left him incapacitated for days.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Murdoc stalked out of the kitchen. His movements and demeanor indicated he was still fired up. Best to avoid him and stay out of his path. Give him a chance to cool down. Might be a few days, he thought dismally. When he got angry like this, it often took some time to dissipate. And usually 2D spent those days nursing his wounds. Today would be one of those days obviously. Struggling to stand, 2D groaned when the world started to spin in his vision. Felt like he had cotton in his ears and the pain within his skull was almost too much. He groaned again, his hand braced to his aching stomach. "Tosser," he croaked.

* * *

The glass shattered just outside the study, sparkling fragments of glass flashing in the darkness. Chest heaving, Murdoc raked his head through his hair. This was almost too fucking much. How dare the dullard talk to him in such a manner! Why couldn't the fucker get it through his head that you didn't mess with Murdoc's women? Quickest way to ignite Murdoc's temper was to move in on something that belonged to him. He blinked in the dimly lit study, dully noting the thick haze of cigarette smoke. His eyes burned and he wasn't sure if it was due to his heated state or from hot boxing the room. The empty pack of cigarettes on the desk had once been three quarters of the way full. He'd smoked one after another, grumbling and cursing as he paced. Icy-hot spasms of pain shot through his left hand, the knuckles screaming in agony from pounding in the face-ache's thick skull. Teach the sorry sod to even think about getting near her. And then to have the balls to shoot off his mouth like he did! Dent head should thank the fucking universe Murdoc hadn't snapped him in two! Well worth the pain in his hand.

Huffing loudly, Murdoc grabbed another glass tumbler from his cabinet, unsteadily making his way back to the globe. He'd already downed one of the bottles and was hell bent on having another. Never mind the late morning hour, drinking time was never an issue to him. Cracking open a bottle in the early AM was just as suitable as cracking open a bottle in the evening hours. He wasn't really sure what time it was anyway. Early enough, he reasoned. There was still a slight chill to the air. The heat usually didn't strike until mid-day and after. Knowing it would be another hot fucking day irritated him. He despised being this agitated. Part of him even wanted to track down Hailey and give her a good piece of his mind. They both were at fault! They were the reason he felt as he did! Pawing all over each other, flaunting it in his face while the little tart refused to put out. The fucking bitch.

"Cunt," he growled as he poured his new bottle into the glass. Nothing but a little fucking cock tease. Wearing his clothes, moving in ways that got his interests sparked and cock hard. He was fucking going insane. He couldn't even get her to give him head. She didn't have to swallow, just suck his dick. When the time came, he'd take matters into his own hands, figuratively and literally speaking. Fucking hell, just thinking about what he was missing made him hard. After getting a taste of what she was capable of during their time together in Seattle, he ached to have it again. He knew the only way to remedy the situation was to finally come clean. Well, it might not remedy it. Might make things worse.

This was all just a bunch of bloody bullshit. Why the fuck did he have to suffer for this? He uttered a growl, dropping back down into the chair with his fresh drink. Everything was spinning in his field of vision, the study tilting dangerously. He gripped the arms of the chair, focusing on the lift across the room. He couldn't even enjoy getting shit-faced. Beating into the dent-head should have made him feel better but, if anything, he felt worse. He was still irritated and angry. Still wanting to lash out at someone. The other half of his problems was somewhere in the house. Yeah, find her. Rip into her. Make her feel two inches tall for making him feel so shitty and agitated. He gritted his teeth, taking a drink from his glass. As much as he wanted to track down Hailey and verbally lash into her, he remembered the uncomfortable sensation of her knee grinding into his balls. He didn't want a repeat performance. She'd made her position quite clear and he'd be a fool to ignite that fire.

His hardened expression relaxed a bit as he stewed over the situation. She was being difficult because he was being difficult. If he'd fessed up right away and not been a tosser about this whole mess, she'd be more inclined to allow his advances. He frowned, staring at his half empty glass. Why was it so hard to admit that he wanted back whatever it was they'd had while he was in Seattle? Why was it so difficult to admit that he missed her comfort and warmth? His frown deepened, not so distant memories of seeing Hailey and the face-ache all smiles and friendly with one another. They were flaunting it, rubbing it in his face. She was so willing to share that comfort and warmth with the dullard but deny him? Who the hell did she think she was? Look at all he'd offered her! He could have given this to any woman and they would have jumped at the chance to take what he offered. She'd been the lucky chosen one. Millions of willing women out there and he'd chosen her. The one he had hoped to share his universe with. He'd thought her worthy of this honor. The least she could do was be more fucking grateful of his generosity!

A low growl erupted from him as he drained his glass, chucking it aside. She had only proven to be a vindictive and unworthy little trollop! He needed to find her and let her fucking know how bloody ridiculous she was being. Make her feel bad. There was no way in fucking hell she was going to make him feel like he'd done something wrong. He'd given her a fucking gift and she was rubbing his affections in his face! The ungrateful little tart!

Rising from the desk, he clumsily made his way to the lift. He had no idea where the hell she'd run off to but there were only so many places the little tart could hide. Most likely location was the beach down below. She'd taken a fancy to sitting there and watching the surf. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was she liked about it. What the hell was the appeal of watching trash laden waves washing more shit onto the island? He frowned at the buttons in the lift, unsure of where to go from there. Check the kitchen or maybe his bedroom first? No, check the beach and then work his way up. Made the most sense, right? Grinning, he slapped the main entry button. Yeah, perfect. He rest his head against the cool steel walls of the lift, everything feeling dizzy and out of sorts even behind his eyelids. Finding his bed and dropping into it sounded like a fine plan really. Maybe after giving Hailey a piece of his mind, he'd do just that.

The abrupt jolt of the lift coming to a stop snapped him back around, his eyes snapping open. Stalking out through the main entrance, he scanned the beach before him. Surely she was around somewhere. Not like there was far to go. Grumbling under his breath, he made his way down the short steps unsteadily. The walkway looked treacherous, especially in his inebriated state. Frowning, he stepped carefully as he looked around. The heat was already started to amp up. Curse all the demons in hell, why was he outside again? He circled the massive out-cropping of pink coated rubbish, trying like hell not to trip over something. A small voice whispered in the back of his head about the dulling pain in his hand. It no longer really hurt, mostly cold. He flexed the hand, white fire pain shooting up his arm. Never mind the fucking hand, just find her.

He could see her in the distance, staring at the jetty and small submarine that bobbed beside it. He closed in, all his thoughts crowding together. He was ready. Let her have it with both barrels. Make her feel like she was two bloody inches tall. She'd heard him approaching, perking her head and turning to look and see who it was. Still frowning at her, he stopped a few feet short from where she sat. "Why're you bein' such a bloody lil' tease?" he snapped.

Hailey merely cocked an eyebrow as she slowly got to her feet. "Being a tease? Really?" She let out a snorting laugh, shaking her head. "Where'd this come from?"

"I see how you are with the dullard upstairs," he said thickly, his vision doubling briefly. "All over him, shuttin' me out...Your games won't work with me. I know what's goin' on!" Christ, his arm ached. He hated the odd thick feeling in his head. It seemed to have gotten worse as the drinking progressed. He shook his head, wishing his vision would clear. She was simply staring at him, unmoving. She had nothing to say in her defense because he'd caught her in her little game. Struggling to focus, his brow knitted together when he realized she wasn't staring at his face anymore. "Look at me when I'm talkin'!" he barked abruptly, the odd thick feeling seeming to intensify.

"What happened to you hand?" she asked, gesturing to his left. The blasted woman! To hell with his hand. She needed to listen. He had a lot to say and she was going to hear him out. Her attention was too focused on the hand. His words fell on deaf ears as she knelt down, examining him. "What the hell did you do to yourself?" she asked softly.

He grunted in response, now staring down at his left hand. It had been the one he'd injured when struggling with the Cyborg. The bandages were bloody and torn, blood dripping from his hand. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing a trail of red from where he'd walked. When the hell did this happen? The hand was swollen and almost mangled looking with all the loose bandages and blood. "Dunno," he muttered, watching as she gingerly moved the bandages, exposing the damaged digit. Had he done more damage when he'd attacked the dent-head? So much blood.

She didn't look upset at him. He figured she'd react to his accusations and be angry. Didn't they all do that? No, she looked worried. Standing upright, she gestured for him to go back the way he'd come. "Murdoc, we need to get you back in the house. The bone's exposed."

Reluctantly, he allowed her to usher him back towards the entrance of the house. "You need t' listen t' what I have t' say," he grumbled, staring at the swollen and bloody hand. "After ever'thin' I done for you. This is how you show your gratitude?"

She didn't respond to his question, too focused on his hand. "You've been drinking...no wonder it's bleeding so badly." Her eyes met his, the worry still there but also an odd sense of control. "How does your head feel? Do you feel dizzy or anything?" Figures she'd change the subject. Take away the focus from this important discussion and redirect his aggravation to the injured hand. He was still standing, so obviously it wasn't that bad. She was still staring at him, waiting for a response. "How do you feel right now?"

"Thick," he whispered. "Like there's cotton in me head." No, no, no! This was not how it was supposed to go! He wanted to give her a good verbal lashing about how she'd been acting! Why was she so focused on his fucking hand? So what if he'd been bleeding like a stuck pig. There were more important matters to discuss. " 'Nough 'bout me hand, woman," he slurred, "this is 'bout you bein' a teasin' lil' tart."

She screwed her face up, her worried expression shifting to mild annoyance. "Murdoc, I think you've lost a lot of blood. We need to get your hand taken care of and then you can rip me a new asshole about your delusion of being wronged."

His mouth fell open in surprise as she led him through the entrance and towards the lift. Delusion? _Delusion?_ Where the hell did she get off acting like this fucking mess was all in his head! He'd seen all this rubbish with his own fucking eyes. "I'm not del...del...delu...I'm not illusional." He wasn't delusional. He knew when he was being fucked with. "I saw you two."

"You saw me hanging out with a friend," she corrected, leading him to the master suite. "Unless you haven't noticed, there's not a lot of folks living here other than us three. He needs a friend as much as you or me." She shoved him back, sitting him at the edge of the bed. Murdoc watched as she disappeared into the bathroom, rummaging through the cupboards. "Of course, he's much better company at the moment. At least he doesn't lie to me like another person I know."

Murdoc uttered a noise of disgust, rising back to his feet. "I...I'm not..." An odd cold feeling washed over him, the room tilting dangerously in his vision. Everything seemed fuzzy and distant, even the sound of her voice. He groaned, dropping back to the edge of the bed. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the blood pooling at his feet, his injured hand still bleeding profusely. "Christ, m' hand hurts."

She was suddenly before him, kneeling down again to examine his injured hand. "We need to get your hand re-wrapped." More pain shot through his arm when she slowly moved his hand around. There was no denying the damage. The middle finger was twisted, the bone protruding between his knuckle and the middle joint. And the pain. Holy fuck did it fucking hurt when she touched it and moved it. As gentle as her touch seemed, it burned like fire through his hand and up his arm. "This is going to hurt. You might want to bite something."

He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to make of her kindness. Why was she so concerned with him when he'd been such a prick to her? She deserved it, but still. She didn't seem at all concerned at the discussion he was trying to have with her. She was concerned about his hand and his well being. Frowning up at him, she shoved a rag into his mouth and then grabbed his hand, the pain flaring hotter and hotter. He stared at her with wide eyes, watching as she grabbed his injured finger and twisted it painfully. Screaming against the gag, he clenched his teeth down, straining the arm to break free of her grip. More pain, more agony. He could feel tears springing to his eyes as she pressed, pulled and twisted. She'd positioned herself almost next to him, his entire arm locked within her own, her hands almost like iron. More pressure, more pain. He choked against the gag, the muscles and tendons in his jaw aching as he clenched down even harder. Holy fucking Beelzebub!

She paused, staring at his mangled hand. "Bite down again." She grabbed the injured hand again, twisting his finger. His screams muffled by the rag in his mouth, he fought to tear his arm away, more pain shooting through him. Everything was fuzzy and fading out. She seemed completely oblivious to his struggles, bracing herself into his arm. Weakly, he tried a few more feeble attempts to pull his arm away. All the things he'd wanted to say were forgotten. A loud snap echoed through the room. Dropping back into the softness of his bed, Murdoc's vision cleared, seeing Hailey now sitting beside him with bandages. "Your knuckles are bruised up really bad. What the hell did you do to yourself?"

Pulling the rag from his mouth with his good hand, he gasped, almost unable to speak. He still felt distant and dizzy. His arm still hurt, but nothing like the screaming torture she'd just put him through. He lifted his head weakly. She'd reset the finger, popping the exposed bone back into place. There was still a nasty looking opening on the finger. The hand was also still swollen. How the hell did he bleed so fucking much anyway? The side of the bed and the floor now looked like a murder scene. "Broke me finger," he panted, dropping his head back. "I'm a leftie with my punches..."

She bandaged his hand carefully, merely nodding. "You're going to need some rest. You've lost a lot of blood." She frowned, staring down at his face. "You broke that finger in Seattle, Murdoc. I remember seeing the piss poor bandage job." She smoothed some of his hair from his sweating face. "How did it happen?"

Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes. It was nice having the gentleness back. Nice to feel her breath against him. A low rumble of contentment erupted from him as she continued to smooth his hair back. "Dun' think you'd believe me if I told you, love..." This felt good. The pain in his hand was now just a dull ache. A nuisance that sometimes tore his attention from the wonderful feeling of her hands moving through his hair. They could talk about her despicable behavior later, just don't stop doing this. She continued the gentle exploration through his hair. Christ, he missed this. All the things that troubled him seem to be vanishing with each shiver that sent spasms through his body. He groaned against the touch, closing his eyes again. Yeah, they'd hash out her behavior later. Ground rules or some other nonsense, yeah? Opening his eyes again, he weakly lifted his injured hand. She'd carefully and snugly re-bandaged it, the finger still looking atrocious and most of his hand a pale purple color but she'd still taken the care to tend to it. After how he'd acted, she still had no qualms about helping him?

She eased herself down beside him, her voice soft. "It wasn't a drinking party, was it?"


	5. Chapter Four

** Chapter Four**

Hailey dug around in the little gym bag until she found what she'd been looking for. Murdoc was still laying on the bed, pale and shaking. Every so often he'd lift his injured hand and stare at the fresh bandage job. She suspected he was in a lot more pain than he was letting on. The only indication that he was uncomfortable was the way the muscles in his face would tense. She'd hated having to do what she did, but there'd been little other choice. Now she needed to see what he had in his mobile pharmacy to take the edge off the pain. She had to admit, he had an impressive stock. Percocets, valiums, Rohypnol, Adderral, vicodin and other more illicit substances. Grabbing the bottle of vicodin, she uncapped it and dumped three pills into her hand. She had no idea how strong they were but seeing that the man had a fucking pharmacy in a gym bag, she reasoned his tolerance was well above normal. He also needed rest. When she presented the pills with a small glass of water, he merely gave a nod of thanks and took the pills dry. "Thanks, love."

"No worries," she murmured, sitting at the edge of the bed. She was still unsure of what to make of the tale he'd told her. It just seemed too bizarre to be real. It would be easy to accuse him of fabricating another tale, but was that the case? Why come up with something so outlandish if it weren't true in some way? She knew the drinking story had been bullshit from word go. And this belief had been solidified when she'd seen her own mug and missing persons report on the big screen plasma in the lounge room. She knew something else had happened. And any doubts she may have had were dashed to the ground then and there. She had to wonder just when Murdoc would finally fess up because she just couldn't see him trying to maintain such a lie knowing that she'd discover the truth sooner or later.

It was surreal finding out that most of the things the public assumed to be publicity gimmicks were, in fact, real. Their guitarist had really gone missing in the midst of shooting the famed El Manana music video. Murdoc had really been running from some group he'd crossed. When his money had run out, he started putting together the Plastic Beach album and had actually kidnapped the singer after tracking him down in Beirut. He'd really been keeping the man captive on the island for nearly two years. He'd really gone about having a Cyborg replica of their guitarist built. She had yet to see this curiosity and wasn't quite sure she wanted to. The tour through North America had been a careful yet dangerous juggle for the bassist. Keeping 2D in check, making sure the Cyborg didn't glitch out and making sure the collaborators and back up musicians didn't catch on that something was amiss. Maintaining the gimmick to everyone around them. It had been a hellish and stressful six months for the bassist.

She'd stumbled across his path when everything had been unraveling around him. He'd been running for too long and struggling to maintain control of the charade. She'd been a welcome distraction for him, something to pursue and take his mind off the things going on around him. There were no illusions about what it started as. She wasn't an idiot in that regard. It had been all about sex when they'd first met. Their mutual liking for the rougher bedroom play had sparked further interest. Though part of his original version of events included him wanting her to join him back home and asking her, it was revealed that he had asked, but things had gotten so heated, she had never been able to give an answer. He did want her company on a continued basis, yes, but everything had gone haywire before they could really discuss the idea. She'd been there when everything had finally blown up. Caught in the cross-fire. The Cyborg had malfunctioned, attacking the Gorillaz singer. Hailey realized that she had no memory of these events, even with Murdoc saying that she'd been there. She'd been in his hotel suite when it all had gone down. Had seen too much without understanding what it was. There'd been a struggle and she'd gotten knocked unconscious.

Hailey sat at the edge of the bed, stewing over all she'd been told. She'd been drugged, that was why there was no memory of what happened. That was why she'd lost two days. After she'd been knocked out cold, he had drugged her to keep her unconscious. Hid her away in the equipment trailer until he could get her on the plane. She wasn't sure what to make of this revelation. The term kidnapping came to mind, particularly when she thought back to the missing persons blurb on the local news channel. Was it more complex than that? His motives behind taking her with had not been sinister in nature. He'd simply panicked and did what he could to hide the disaster unfolding around him. He'd had a malfunctioned robot, a lead singer – whom he'd kidnapped – on the run and suddenly an unconscious woman on his hands.

She cast a glance at Murdoc, who was now dozing. He said he'd wanted her to come with him. Stewed over it for a few days before all hell had broken loose in the hotel, but he'd been afraid. Afraid of her contacting the authorities, afraid she'd turn him away once she'd learned the truth behind the current state of Gorillaz. Seeing that everything had played out drastically different, she wasn't sure what her reaction would have been had he told her the truth behind everything. She wasn't even sure what her answer would have been had he asked her about joining him back to his home. Taking off with some guy she'd only just met was a recipe for disaster and a sure fire way to end up in some third world brothel if you went by what you heard in the media every now and again. But there was a sense of adventure. How often does a wealthy playboy cross your path and actually want you to stick around for a spell? And they were able to relate to each other in ways that went beyond the sex. If she'd been given the chance to answer, would she have declined? Seattle was home, but there'd been little holding her there. Her friendship with Ali was toast and she could easily take a lengthy break from work. Finding suitable employment down the road wouldn't be an issue either. Money she had as well. She'd been saving for ten years. She could make it a year easy without anyone's help.

A touch to her back brought her back to the moment, feeling Murdoc's fingers graze against her spine. She peered over her shoulder at him, seeing him awake and staring back. The vicodin had taken its hold. His eyes were glazed and lids droopy. "I know it's a lot t' take in," he said in a low voice. "I understand if you want me t' take you back. I would need time t' prepare the sub, but I can if that's what you want, love."

"I don't know what I want right now," she said, shrugging her shoulders. A normal person would demand to be taken back. If she'd told this story to anyone, they'd think her insane to stick around. She'd disappeared without a trace. There was no record of her leaving. Her entire life was in her bedroom back home. She had left with nothing more than the clothes on her back and her purse. Everything surrounding her disappearance would lead authorities to believing the worst.

She could tell by the look on his face that he hadn't expected her uncertainty. He most likely had already come to the conclusion that she'd demand to be returned home and there'd be no convincing her otherwise. He slowly pushed himself upright, slumping over with his arms on his knees. "I feel a lil' woozy."

"You've lost a lot of blood and you have painkillers in your system," she said in a matter of fact tone, nudging him back into the bed. "What you need is to lie down for a while." She stood up from the bed, watching as he sluggishly moved to the side he'd normally been sleeping on. He'd need rest and decent food. This meant healthier fare. She could already hear him loudly complaining about being served juice with some vegetable and a protein of some kind. But if he wanted to feel himself again, he'd need to take care of himself, even if only for a day or two. Good food and some vitamin C might spring him back to life within a few hours, really.

Leaving him in his room, she took the lift to the kitchen. He had offered the chance to go back. He'd take her back home if that was what she wanted. What did she want? She just didn't know! She had nothing that meant enough to her to keep her in Seattle or make her want to go back. Some personal belongings, sure, but not much else. She wasn't sure exactly what he had to offer other than companionship and some hot sex but she was curious enough to stick it out and see. The last week or so had been interesting enough, even if he had been a bit of a dick about things. When he'd shown up on the beach to rip into her about some imagined crime, bleeding everywhere and too drunk to notice, she probably should have put him in his place. Especially since the little bastard had been drunk and talking out of his ass. But whatever aggravation she may have felt in those moments had been pushed wayside when she realized he was badly injured and completely tanked, which had only made the bleeding worse.

Stepping out of the lift into the kitchen, her eyes fell on the loaf of bread left out of its wrapping and a few other items strewn across the counters that should have been returned to the fridge. She let out a heavy sigh, slowly wrangling the items up. Typical men. She suspected this was 2D's work seeing that Murdoc's breakfast consisted of rum. She could smell it on him a mile away. She knew she was a guest, an invader of sorts, and didn't really want to change up however the men had been living prior to her arrival. Food preparation was a different matter seeing that most men revel in the fact they have someone to cook for them. And there was no shortage of gratitude from either of them for her abilities in that area.

Rummaging through the fridge, she pulled out some produce and some eggs. Maybe an omelet? She could load it up with vegetables and a bit of sausage. Omelet it was, then. Murdoc needed something half assed decent to eat and it did sound pretty damned good. She went about the task of slicing up the bell peppers, adding different colors in for taste and variety. Fry them up a bit before adding them into the egg. Little bit of onion too wouldn't hurt. She preoccupied herself with making their breakfast, only stopping long enough to pour herself a cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette.

Did she really want to leave? The place was fascinating, even if it was isolating. The house never ceased to amaze her, finding something new almost every day now. The isolation really wasn't much of an issue. She had never been much of a social butterfly. She had her haunts back home, but nothing of any solid substance. She'd enjoyed her single life too much to settle and most of those she interacted with in that city were disposable. No doubt they saw her the same. The bitch Chloe sure made that known to her. Okay, so maybe she'd miss having her daily rounds with the fire crotch cunt, but otherwise, she could say with certainty that Seattle held little legitimate meaning for her. Christ, she had to be insane to even consider any of this. The man had smuggled her out of the country! If the authorities had caught wind, he'd be facing kidnapping and human trafficking charges, right?

She frowned as she tossed the sliced peppers into the pan. She'd really enjoyed the time she'd spent with him during his brief stint in the city. It had been nice having someone who understood her and for him it was the same. They'd even gone about ensuring they could remain in contact after he left. Little did she know he was going through some weird internal battle over whatever feelings he was starting to have. Not necessarily _feelings_...just that desire to hold onto what they'd had. She wasn't even sure what it was they'd had then. Did it still exist now? With all the tension, the lies and the arguing, she wasn't sure they could recover even a scrap of whatever it was they'd manage to have. Go back home to a ruined friendship and people she really didn't care about in a city she'd grown up in most of her life or remain here on this bizarre and fascinating island with a world known rock musician who was an animal in bed? Good god, why the hell was she thinking so hard on this? He wanted her here with him, right? The more she thought on it, the more she realized that she probably would have taken the offer to join him and shot clear of the city without looking back. If things didn't work out, she could see about getting back home. The decision is final then? Was she going to stay?

Finishing the omelets, she set one of the plates at the table and went to the intercom. "Stu, breakfast is ready. Come and get it, man." She grabbed the two remaining plates and ventured to the lift. The smell from the omelets had her mouth watering as the lift carried her up to the next floor, letting her off just outside his bedroom. She slipped in silently, noting that Murdoc hadn't moved from his position on the bed. She set his omelet on the small bed-side table and then rounded the bed to the vacant space to sit down and eat. She merely ate in silence, pondering over this interesting fork in the road. There were certainly perks if she remained. The man had been fucking insane in bed. She couldn't recall any time before that had her almost crawling off the bed in agony. But fuck it all, it had felt so fucking good! How he could man-handle her and have her at his mercy but still begging for him to continue. She exhaled loudly, setting the plate aside. She missed that also. And from the looks of things, he wasn't going to be primed for action anytime soon. All the blood traveling south would probably put him into shock.

From beside her, she could feel movement. Murdoc slowly rolled towards her, his good hand resting against her leg, his eyes opening slowly. "What do I smell?" he asked in a hoarse whisper

"Omelet," she said, flashing a smile. "On the little side table." She pulled her plate back into her lap and resumed eating. "Eat slowly, please."

He slowly pulled himself to an upright position, reaching for his plate. "Christ, I feel like I got hit by a train, Poppet." His gaze fell to his bandaged hand, brow furrowing. "I can't believe I did this t' m'self."

"I'm surprised you didn't pass out from blood loss or shock," she said through a bite of food. "You fucked that hand up pretty bad, Murdoc. What happened?"

"Broke it when I was tacklin' the Cyborg." He took a bite of his food, pausing briefly before a noise of contentment came rumbling from him. "Christ, this is fuckin' great." He took another bite, chewing slowly. She did wonder if he'd take notice of the obscene amount of bell peppers she'd put into it. If he did, he certainly didn't care, diving into the plate with gusto. "Fuckin' hell...this is outstandin'."

She was glad to see him enjoying the food. He didn't look as pale or tired as earlier and she figured that was a good sign. Her first aid knowledge was rusty and limited. Resetting his damned finger had been a stroke of luck. She just knew blood loss required rest, fluids and food. He would most likely still need to rest up a bit before he'd be back at full strength. "You're gonna want to rest more. Don't over-do shit."

Murdoc flashed a crooked smile, shoveling a massive bite into his mouth. "Damn, woman, where have you been all m' life an'ways?"

"Still crawling out of hell," she quipped, flashing a smile.

* * *

She wiped away the fog that had settled across the mirror. Fresh out of the shower, Hailey stared at her reflection. The shower had helped her feel a little better, but not by much. She felt tired and drained. She'd been feeling pretty rotten the last few days, honestly. Mostly fatigue but there'd been a few occasions when food had lost its appeal and something as simple as the smell of coffee sent her stomach into knots. She frowned, taking a step back to examine herself. Other than fading marks and a few fresh ones, she didn't appear any different. But she hated feeling this out of sorts. She'd awoken feeling rotten and this feeling hadn't improved at all. Breakfast had been a challenge, the smells sending every fiber of her being into panic mode, her stomach threatening to betray her with every new scent that invaded her nose. After serving the food and sitting down with the guys, her stomach lurched violently. She hadn't even gotten the chance to take a bite of the food prepared. Bile came up in the back of her throat, what little she'd eaten and drank earlier was ready to make a return appearance. She'd jumped to her feet, knocking her chair back, and rushed out of the kitchen towards the lift. She'd barely made it to the master suite's bathroom.

Even after emptying her stomach and taking a shower, she still felt like crap. Was it a bug of some sort? The weather there never could seem to make up its mind. Hot as hell during the day then cold as ice through the night. Sometimes bordering on freezing. The odd weather shifts could be to blame. Add to that the fact that the island did shift and rock a little with the surf. She barely noticed it now, but take it all into account and it would make sense she'd start to feel ill.

She wrapped herself in a towel, sitting on the closed toilet. The nausea didn't pass, her stomach still threatening even though there was nothing left to force out. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten so ill, she'd puked. Five years, maybe ten? Sure she got a cold now and again, but a stomach bug? She couldn't recall if she'd gotten the season's flu shot or not. She'd been so busy with work and raging social life, a quick trip to the doctors to keep her safe from the viruses that ran amok that time of year hadn't really crossed her mind. But it wasn't entirely unlikely that she'd had it done and simply forgot. She scrubbed her hands across her face, rising from her seat. Given the rocking island and temperatures, it wouldn't be too much of a shock she'd fallen ill. She was used to mild and consistent weather. Triple digit days and freezing nights were sure to send her body's immune system into overdrive. A simple sneeze could have triggered it. A randomly undercooked piece of chicken could have triggered it.

Dressing herself quietly, she emerged from the bathroom. The windows of the master suite had a glorious view, but a view she'd seen now for almost three weeks. Thanksgiving was now behind them and the big ticket holidays were fast approaching. Her Thanksgiving had been spent cooking a huge meal for the three of them and some brief chatter about the significance of the American holiday. Other than that, it really wasn't much different had she tagged along with Alicia or Jason to their parents' homes. Surprisingly, she felt more at home sharing the meal with Murdoc and 2D than she'd ever felt sitting at the tables of her friends' respective families. Alicia's and Jason's families always made her feel like a bit of an outsider. Those who didn't know her wanting to know why she was there and not with her own family on the holiday. This would always be followed by the awkward silence when it was revealed she had no family to visit.

Both Murdoc and 2D were staring at her when she stepped back into the kitchen, her food looking less appetizing than before. "You a'right?" 2D asked, watching her as she seated herself back in front of her plate. She gave a small nod, staring at the plate of biscuits and sausage gravy. 2D craned his neck to see her face better. "You sure, love? You were lookin' pretty green."

"Fine," she muttered, pushing her plate away. She pondered over the million different scenarios that could lead to this exhausted and sick feeling. Weather, virus, food poisoning...all of these seemed like a likely scenario. The only thing that seemed to not fit was realizing she'd felt relatively fine the other day and it had been the smell of coffee that sent her stomach out of control. Something else nagged in the back of her mind, something important that she hadn't given much thought to. She'd had certain toiletries ordered with one of the first supply shipments upon her arrival. Items that only she would need. Items that had made Murdoc visibly uncomfortable when she'd mentioned the need fort them. They remained under the bathroom sink – unopened. Her brow furrowed, unsure if she should entertain the thought. Didn't seem possible. It had to be a bug. Something else.

But why else would she be so tired on top of it all? And it was just as likely a scenario as everything else, right? But how? Maybe all the chaos threw her cycles off. Stress can do that. That didn't really hold much water, though. She'd always been like clockwork, stress be damned. She should have had a need for those special little toiletries over a week ago. With everything going on around her, she simply hadn't given it much thought. Oh god...no, it can't be that. There was just no way. They'd been well beyond careful! It had always been of the utmost importance. So when could it possibly have happened? Oh fucking hell, she couldn't believe she was starting to entertain the notion. But given how careful they'd been, she just couldn't figure out when there'd possibly been an opening for error. And the first week on the island, she hadn't allowed him to touch her at all. Was it safe to say that if this was the case, it didn't happen after her arrival at Point Nemo? Logic told her she'd been just as careful when they'd first met in Seattle. But she hadn't had anyone else in her bed for months, the last fool sent out the door at least three or four months prior to meeting Murdoc at the bar. Her throat felt dry, the glass of orange juice not seeming to help. It's a virus, she insisted to herself. It's not what you think it is. How could it not be that, though! All the signs were there, right? Tired, smells making her sick, skipping a cycle when her body had always been reliable in that area. She knew all the signs leading up to starting her monthly cycles and realized that there'd been nothing. "Oh my god," she moaned, rising from the table. "I need some air." She ignored their confused looks as she ran out of the kitchen and back towards the lift.

The lift deposited her in the study, the silence welcoming and the slider door leading to the balcony slightly ajar. She stepped outside, smiling at the cool breeze that drifted through. Just how in the hell did she plan on bringing this up with Murdoc? She was already quite sure of his reaction to such news. He was perfectly happy having little to no responsibilities in his life. The less complicated, the better. Well, this was a big fucking complication, now wasn't it? She knew what he'd want. 2D had filled her in a bit about their lives while in the band. Murdoc got more cautious in his older years, but 2D could still remember the occasional one night shag popping up at Kong's doorstep months later with a paternity claim. For all they knew, he'd sired a legion of children through the world. There were five the bassist was aware of, five that were most likely the product of speed induced carelessness during his own youth. He hadn't even been aware of their existence until a few short years ago, the five now grown men themselves. It had also shown how often he'd gotten around then, even before forming Gorillaz and becoming famous. Two of the young men were born within days of each other, the other three mere months apart. Half siblings born from five separate mothers.

Were there any others? From what 2D had told her, the bassist generally paid the women to get rid of the problem or at least go away and keep their trap shut. The idea of his money going to support something he had no desire to know existed just didn't compute to the man. Hailey uttered a humorless laugh, shaking her head. The man was the poster child for deadbeat, wasn't he? The rock star life, right? She was now one hundred percent confident she knew what his response would be. And she realized she was perfectly okay with this. She didn't want this complication. She was like him in that regard. She liked her life free of much responsibility as possible. She'd been perfectly content with her life. No real responsibility, free to come and go as she pleased, disposable income. Most women her age had slowed down and started the whole family gig and there she was, still living it up like she was in her twenties. And she'd been completely and utterly _fine_ with it.

There were pills she could order. Spendy, but accessible. The only downside being that they weren't due to make another supply order for another two weeks and she knew time was of the essence. If her math was correct, this put her at almost four weeks. If it happened, it happened in Seattle. There was no other possible time frame. And this meant she'd need the pills as soon as possible for them to be effective. This also meant telling Murdoc because no doubt he'd question the purchase. Hell, the man might beat her to the punch and order them himself once it was made known.

She leaned against the rails, staring out at the ocean around her. She needed to take a few days to think. Knee jerk reactions always ended in disaster. Take some time to think on it a bit. Few days wouldn't hurt. At least figure out just how she planned on breaking things to him and then figure out their next step from there. This kind of situation never ended well. They hadn't been together long and something as big as this was sure to cause more tension and headache than either of them needed at the moment. The best course of action was to simply get the problem out of the way and carry on. Even if they both warmed to the idea, what could they possibly offer it? Two dysfunctional adults and a dim wit on an island of garbage? Two dysfunctional and _immature_ adults on top of that. The poor thing wouldn't stand a chance in their care. She could already hear the nay-sayers clucking their tongues at them. How dare they try to do something that only normal people did! How dare they try to prove they were equal!

Sneering, she turned away from the railing. Everyone was always so quick to kick them and keep them down. Make sure they knew where they belonged. Even Murdoc, with his fame and notoriety, had dealt with his share of assholes determined to keep him in the gutter. It was how things were for them, always had. Their success in life meant very little to those who saw them as inferior. Look at how Chloe treated her! Look at what Alicia had finally said! They all had seen her as a nobody, someone to keep under their shoe. Remember your place. Always made to feel she wasn't a part of anything. They all would mock them, torment them. Children's Services would sniff around. They always did when their former foster kids went on to have kids of their own. She'd seen it enough times.

She dropped herself into one of the patio chairs. They couldn't do this. They weren't ready for this. Hell, they didn't want this! What could she do, though? Order the necessary pills and hope they worked? What if they didn't work? She'd need a proper doctor and what if something happened while they were still on the island? So many things could go wrong. She frowned, her eyes downcast. Let's say, for the sake of argument, they embrace what is about to happen and carry on...what if it killed her? Her own mother had died giving birth to her. She didn't want to share that fate.

Sighing, she looked up at the blue and cloudless sky. It figures something would throw a wrench into things. She'd decided to stay, enjoy this new adventure with her new friends. Enjoy the companionship with someone she'd never expected to want anything long term. Accepted the monogamous relationship. This was her home now. Murdoc and 2D were her family. Accepted into their world and made to feel more at home in their company than she'd ever felt anywhere else in her life. Accepted as she was. Happy and content with their small community. And now it appeared their population was about to increase by one.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Murdoc paused in his doorway, his eyes on the woman sprawled across his bed. It was a bit surprising to find her in bed at such an early hour. The normal prime time drama shows they usually watched weren't even on yet. He'd been in the lounge with 2D, getting ready to settle in the for the day. They were both stuffed to bursting and initially Murdoc had thought Hailey remained in the kitchen cleaning up. When time continued to pass and there was still no sign of her, he finally went in search of her. Finding the kitchen empty and tidied, he decided to see if she'd gone up to their shared sleeping quarters maybe to shower and change. Some hope that she would be in the shower so he could join her. He'd discovered no such thing, mildly disappointed when he realized she had retired for the night and was already asleep. A quick glance at the bed-side clock told him it wasn't even nine in the evening yet. The sky was still on fire, filling the room with light. He was curious as to why she'd gone off to bed so early. Never said a word about being tired. He'd have gladly joined her, not that she'd be able to sleep much.

He stood at the side of the bed, staring down at her. She hadn't sprawled out too much, still occupying what had turned into her side, her arm hanging listlessly over the side, fingers touching the carpet. She did seem more tired as of late. Of course, she'd been ill the last week or so. Some sort of virus of bug. It didn't surprise him that she'd fallen ill. The weather and smell of the place wreaked havoc on your body if you weren't accustomed to it. It was warm in the room, even with the fans, the gleam of moisture visible on her forehead. Murdoc reached down, smoothing her hair from her face, wiping away the thin layer of sweat. She stirred briefly, moving only a little before settling again, not once opening her eyes.

Murdoc was surprised at how well Hailey fit in, figuring quickly where she best fit within the ranks. She kept the place clean, kept him and the dent-head fed, was willing to drop whatever she was doing for a romp between the sheets, took the burden of the supply orders off his shoulders and even helped with some of the trickier financial matters, matters that were tricky enough that he often had to hire an accountant for. She'd been a bit vocal about her dislike of domestic duties, but also just as vocal about what kind of slobs he and Tusspot were. What the hell did she expect anyway? His home was a four thousand square foot bachelor pad! If she disliked it so bloody much, stop doing it! Neither he or the face-ache would notice! Stubborn bird did it anyway, complaining the whole way.

He found it peculiar to acknowledge that Hailey had meshed in so well, it was as if she'd always been there. It was a ridiculous thought, really. She'd only been there four weeks or so. And now her presence in the house was noticeable. Female items below the sink in the bathroom, a hairbrush laying on the dresser, her clothing now hanging in the narrow walk in closet, her underthings scattered through the room and slinky little nightgowns that Murdoc saw as purely a waste of fabric.

After relieving himself in the bathroom, he slowly gathered the things he needed to take a shower. Wash the sweat and stink of the island off. Examining his hand, he slowly began to unwrap the bandages, cringing at the nasty cut across his finger. It had needed stitches but after what Hailey had done just to reset the bone in his finger, he hadn't been on board with allowing her near him with a needle and thread. In the end, Hailey had finally agreed that a few sticky strips would suffice, using those to close up the small wound. The hand was finally starting to look something close to normal though, even with the piss poor patch job. Still a bit swollen, but he did notice that he was able to move it a little more without much pain. He'd need her help in re-wrapping it after he showered. Give him an excuse to wake her, yeah? See what other things she'd be willing to do once he had her awake.

He simply stood below the stream of hot water, almost groaning aloud. Christ, this felt bloody good. Not that his day was busy or anything, but nice to wash it all away. He lathered the soap, scrubbing himself down, taking a bit more time when he reached his cock and balls. Using his elbow to keep him supported, he continued to lather and stroke, his mind taking him back to just earlier that day when she'd cornered him in the bedroom. There'd been no hint that anything great was to come but within moments, she'd been kneeling in front of him, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, his cock in her mouth. All of him. He'd literally grabbed her hair and guided her head. When her movements became more heated, he'd finally just let loose, thrusting into her mouth hard and fast. Rocking where he stood, he continued to vigorously stroke his cock, remembering the feel of her mouth. The mental imagery beautiful, seeing her face down below, peering up at him with half mast eyes. The moment hit hard and fast, Murdoc almost stumbling in the shower stall. He braced himself against the tiled walls, slowing his strokes, his eyes squeezed shut and a low shaky sigh escaping from his lips. He slumped forward, watching as the water washed away the evidence of his self play. Suddenly tired, he shut the water down and stepped out, drying himself quickly and pulling on a pair of fresh briefs. A nap sounded glorious at this point. Screw the hand, he'd deal with it when he woke.

He stumbled out of the bathroom and across the room, dropping down at the edge of the bed on Hailey's side. Down by her drooping hand, he noted her purse laying on its side, its contents spilled out. He leaned forward, fingers grazing against the items. The only thing that remained of the life she'd left behind. Curious, he knelt down, examining the contents. No make up, which didn't surprise him, but little oddball things that had made up her existence back home. Keys to a car she'd never drive again, an mp3 player that no doubt was in need of a charge, small digital camera, cell phone, wallet, a half empty pack of American cigarettes and some little Snickers mini candies. Unwrapping one of the candies, he shoved it into his mouth as he resumed his little investigation. She was an interesting woman. And while he was fully aware that her childhood had been as hellish as his, he also realized that he knew very little about her. Only what she wanted him to see and know. Her purse might very well be a gold mine of information. He also knew that women were fiercely protective of their hand-bags and the last thing he felt like dealing with was her fiery wrath for snooping through her things.

Her wallet was one of those modern clutch style wallets. Casting a quick glance to ensure she was still sleeping, he opened it silently. Not much more was revealed. A debit card, a few valued customer discount cards, her drivers license and a little bit of spare cash. He allowed himself to drop onto his rump on the floor, slowly pulling out the random cards and looking them over. Hailey Elizabeth Wilson, born April twelfth nineteen-seventy-seven. She stood five-foot-four and weighed a hundred and thirty five pounds. She banked at some local city bank and had been employed at Richmond, Gregory and Carter for almost ten years. He smiled at the finds, small as they were. Such normal little things. As he sifted through the various cards, he paused at the last one, noting paper tucked behind it. He pulled the card out, revealing a wallet sized picture. Pulling the picture out, he frowned. It was a picture of a woman smiling broadly at whomever wielded the camera. The poor quality of the photo and woman's hideous clothes could only mean the picture had been taken in the seventies..

This was an interesting little find. He pushed himself to his feet, sinking down at the edge of the bed. The woman in the photo could almost be Hailey's twin. Same dark hair, same oval face, same fucking smile. There were little things that were different, but Murdoc was willing to bet money this was a picture of her mother. He turned the picture slowly, noting Hailey's scribble: _Mom, 1976_. Why was it so interesting to find this piece of a life she didn't remember? She never mentioned why she became a state ward, only that she'd gone to foster care as an infant or toddler and had aged out. If it had been due to abuse, why keep a remind of that? And why keep it in her wallet? Something this personal should have been kept safe. A purse can get stolen, the contents rifled through before being tossed away like so much trash. He chewed his lip, tracing a finger around the grainy face of the woman. "So what's your story?" he whispered.

"That's mine," Hailey mumbled sleepily, reaching for the picture. Murdoc turned towards her, seeing her slowly push herself up. Her face was still puffy from sleep, but her eyes were on the picture in his hand. He slowly handed the picture to her, watching as she looked it over carefully before sinking back down into the softness of the bed, yawning. "This was in my wallet. Why are you going through my things?"

"Reckon I'm curious 'bout you." He glanced down at the purse on the floor, at the opened wallet and other items now scattered around it. "Wasn't really tryin' t' pry." It was the truth. He had no ill motives for going through what few personal items she still held onto. Part of him even figured it made sense since they were sharing space. She was still looking at him with sleepy and stony eyes. Something was bothering her but he had no way of knowing what. Was she truly that upset about him going through her belongings? He took a breath, gesturing at the photo in her hand. "That your Mum?"

Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she nodded her head slowly. "This was taken about a month or so before her and my Dad found out she was pregnant with me. My caseworker held onto it for me until I was old enough to not lose it. I didn't even know what she looked like until I was thirteen..."

Murdoc frowned at the sadness in her voice. So maybe there was more to this? He had no memory of his mother. He just knew she'd abandoned him with his father and that was it. No idea what she looked like, no idea why. He had no desire to find out. She'd abandoned him with an abusive drunk and left him at the fucker's mercy. From what he understood, she'd died several years later, just before he went into primary school. Just as well. The last thing he'd felt like dealing with was some neglectful slag showing up at his doorstep claiming to be his Mum and wanting a fucking hand-out. With Hailey, something was different. Or maybe she viewed the situation differently. "State took you 'way from her, yeah?"

She shook her head, brushing some stray hair from her face. "She had complications...died having me. My Dad tried, I guess. Nobody really knows what happened or why, but I guess raising a baby as a widower was just too much for him. He committed suicide when I was around ten or eleven months old." She looked over at him, flashing a sad smile. "When the Department of Children and Family Services were called in to take me into care, they rounded up what little they were allowed. My caseworker found this picture in a drawer. It originally had both Mom and Dad...but I cut Dad out."

So there was more to it. His speculations had been way off. He always thought Children's Services stepped in when it was about abuse and neglect. He never realized they took over with other situations. It made sense though, didn't it? But wouldn't an orphaned kid go to next of kin? "I thought they looked for other family?" he asked softly. "At least, that's what I've a'ways heard an'way."

Something in her expression darkened, the hand holding the picture clutching at the photo even tighter as she exhaled loudly. "They were unable to locate my Mom's family. Dad's family didn't want me. Said they didn't want the burden. Apparently they'd been against my parents getting married. Dad came from a reasonably well to do family and Mom came from the poorer side..." She sneered, her eyes flashing up at him. "The man couldn't even nut up and take care of what should have been the most important thing in his world. Took the coward's way out. He abandoned me just as his family abandoned me when I needed them the most. Left me to rot in the system." He could see the anger just at the surface. She took another breath, letting the photo drop into her lap. She didn't let the anger take over and this was another curiosity about her. He'd always allowed his anger to get the better of him. Reasoned it was best to let it fly and get through his system. But with her, there was this massive control aspect. Keep it under wraps, don't let it cloud her judgment or thinking. "Honestly, I think I would have preferred being a burden and facing their wrath over simply existing than some of the shit I'd gone through, Murdoc."

He crawled across the bed, taking over the vacant side. He wasn't so sure he could agree with that. His Dad had made his dislike of having another mouth to feed well known. His earliest memories were of being beat on by the drunk or his older brother. "Bein' a burden isn't a cake-walk, Poppet. I spent my entire childhood knowin' that I was a burden to my father. Probably woulda given me left nut t' have Children's Services take me outa that shit. I shot clear of that arsehole's home the moment I turned seventeen. I literally counted down the days until I could get outa that fuckin' place."

She touched at the picture in her lap, her eyes surfacing to meet his. "What about your Mom?"

"Dunno, t' be honest," he said with a shrug. "Left me on his doorstep when I was just a baby. Was told she'd given birth t' me in a mental hospital. Not much I can say b'cause I never knew her. Dun' even know what she looks like." His face settled into a deep frown. He didn't think about it much anymore. Not since he was just a child. Phantom memories of being a miserable and scared little boy wishing his Mum would show up to take him away from the hell he'd been living. He'd long ago realized that nobody was going to look out for him and he had to rely on himself. If he'd intended to survive, he had to bury the hurt and never allow any softness or weakness show. "Not much I can tell you, Poppet. She apparently died when I was still small. Four or five, I reckon."

"How bad was it with your Dad?" she asked softly, her hand now on his knee. "Surely there must have been some good moments."

Murdoc shook his head. "If there was, I dun' remember them. He beat me so often, that's all I really recall. I've dealt with broken ribs, broken arms, havin' teeth socked outa me mouth. My brother, Han, he was no angel either. He beat on me a'most as much as the old man." He eased himself into the blankets and pillows, one arm folding behind his head, right hand stretched out. "Han broke my pinky finger for snoopin' through his porn stash...I was 'bout seven or so." His eyes narrowed at the crooked pinky finger, phantom pain lingering with the memory of the incident. "M' Dad simply barked at me 'bout gettin' in t' that troglodyte's shit. When I was 'round ten, m' Dad beat me for stealin' food...stealin' food, he says! Food outa our own bleedin' cupboards." He uttered a short and humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Not the first time he'd done that. We never had much food t' spare. A'ways hungry an' shit. But that bastard beat me so badly, I puked all over the floor b'fore passing out. Woke up still in me own vomit. Then the fucker beat me some more for makin' a mess of his home." Rolling onto his side, he frowned, peering up at her face. She wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the photo in her lap, the muscles tense. His childhood had been no secret. His band-mates were aware that things had been less than pleasant. Even the public was aware of it. Nobody really knew the extent of it, though. He'd always been vague about the details. People tended to treat you with kid gloves when they knew the finer details. He wasn't some fragile little fucking snowflake that needed to be coddled. .

"What a terrible man," she murmured finally, pulling her purse onto the bed. He watched as she tucked the photo back into her wallet, shoving it into the bag and dropping it back to the floor. "No wonder you have nothing to do with him or your brother. Does he still come around?"

"The old sod is dead, love," he said in a matter of fact tone. "Died 'bout four or five years 'go. Drank himself t' death. Found him in that same stinkin' flat, been there for days...nobody cared 'nough t' realize he had disappeared. Good fuckin' riddance."

"And your brother?" She curled into the blankets, rolling to her side to see his face. "What about him?"

"He climbs out from whatever rock he's hidin' under t' try an' get some spare quid," he chuckled. "Fuckin' neanderthal is over fifty an' still leechin' off whomever he can. Fuckin' pathetic, is what it is." He nestled deeper into the blankets, staring at her face. Lingering memories of those moments in her room, the same comfort and understanding he'd never realized he needed. "What 'bout you?" he asked finally. "Reckon thins' were just as bad for you."

"I take the fifth." Her voice was barely above a whisper. He watched as her smile melted and her eyes went cold. The wall was coming back up. This peaked his curiosity. How much worse could it have been for her? She erupted into a massive yawn, flashing a flat and cold smile. "Don't feel like sharing. I've shared enough."

"C'mon now, Poppet," he whispered back. "I've never told an'one the shit I just told you. Out with it now. Good for you, yeah?" He gave her a small nudge of encouragement, staring at her face intently. Every muscle, every small twitch, gave away whatever internal struggle she was dealing with. Her eyes revealed nothing, walled off and almost icy, some internal defense mechanism kicking into gear.

Hailey's brow knitted together, her eyes growing distant. "Do you really want to know?" Murdoc gave a small nod, urging her to continue. Taking a breath, she set out a shaky sigh. "The first foster family that took me in left me in my crib all day and beat me when I cried. Second family I was placed with...their son took a liking to me." Her expression was flat, completely void of any emotion as she spoke. "Shuttled around a bit with other families. Few good ones, I suppose. Never lasted long there, though. My earliest memory is of one foster dad hurting me and another little baby in their care. I was about six, I think. When I was nine, a foster mom found out what her husband and oldest son were doing to me. Blamed me. Made me dress up in her lingerie and perform on them...Act like a whore, dress like a whore. That's what she said to me."

Murdoc felt his body go numb when he realized what she was driving at. He'd never met anyone who'd gone through such things, or at least nobody he knew that told him. One of those things you were aware of but never thought about. Something you read in the paper or hear about on the local news stations. He opened his mouth to speak, the words dying at his lips. He wasn't even sure what he could say. As irritating as he found children, he didn't exactly wish harm on them either. There was some level of common decency. When his voice finally found him, he could only utter a single word. "Christ..."

"My therapist is surprised I'm a functional adult," she said, cracking a small smile, the detached and cold look in her eyes throwing the whole image off. "The foster moms turned a blind eye or blamed me. Caseworkers worked together to keep it covered up. The few good homes I'd been put in couldn't handle me because the damage had been done. I was a danger to other children. Caseworkers weren't allowed to tell them what I'd been through. They'd just pull me from the home and toss me somewhere else until the shit hit the fan again."

He took a breath, a million thoughts and questions raging through his head. Even with his mind screaming that he didn't want to know any of the finer details, his mouth opened and the words tumbled out. "Which home was the worst?"

"I could give you a list," she muttered, her smile fading. "I was moved through about twelve homes from the age of eleven months until I was eighteen. Four were good homes. The rest...If I wasn't being beaten for simply existing, I was being used as someone's sex toy...or both."

Murdoc chewed his lip, unsure of how to proceed. She was so cold and robotic about it. He half expected some level of emotion from her when she spoke. Perhaps she'd gone over it enough times with her therapist that it no longer had the same effect on her as it once did? Of course, what did he know of such things? The closest he could come to understanding her situation was an incident that took place when he was nine. He'd been a pseudo willing partner, though. The woman had been two decades his senior and though a part of him knew what they'd done wasn't right, he'd gone through with it anyway. The only thing he could really recall was feeling out of sorts afterward.

She cracked another smile, the coldness melting away. "My caseworker, Miss Douglas, was so young and idealistic when she'd been assigned my case. She'd even tried to see what loopholes she could find to have me placed in her care...to protect me from what had been happening. They said it was a conflict of interest. And threatened her with termination and legal repercussions if she refused to tow the line and cover shit up." A small laugh erupted from her, her eyes glassy from what he could assume were the onset of tears. "She had no choice, really. Did as she was told. I'd become this angry and miserable adolescent, running away and getting into trouble. The last home I was placed in...it was a good home. They were friends of hers. They worked specifically with at-risk children and teenagers. They weren't in it for the paycheck, they truly wanted to help those who the system had given up on." She was smiling at him now, no longer cold and walled off. "She's a supervisor at DCFS now. I was one of the few who didn't fall through the cracks. We still maintain contact here or there. Exchange cards around Christmas usually."

"And the last family that took you in?" he asked softly.

"Estranged," she muttered with a small shrug. "They disapproved of my lifestyle. Felt I should have been married with kids by now, or at least engaged I guess. Apparently being as old as I am with no long term partner and no desire to settle down meant I was wasting my potential as a wife. They were religious, so I can't fault them for that belief. They never really pushed it on me when I was under their care, but kinda got weird about it after I'd moved on to college and then the job I ended up having. Barbara, the foster mom, was almost beside herself when I said I most likely never settle down or marry."

This revelation brought a chuckle from him. With everything this woman had been through, she'd pretty much come out on top. She'd obtained a decent career, managed whatever issues that may have lingered from the nightmare childhood and worked to prove to everyone that she wasn't something to be discarded and ignored. She'd found a place in life that made her most comfortable. Content with where she was and unwilling to make any changes. He understood that probably better than anyone. It was all about live life to the fullest and partake in whatever life had to offer. Whether it was a shag for the night or a line of coke, as long as it brought him joy that was all that mattered.

"Everyone seems to think I will change my mind," she continued through a yawn. "I figure my life is great as it is. If a bump in the road comes along...well, I suppose I'll cross that bridge when I get there." Yawning again, she relaxed into the blankets, her eyes drooping. He watched with curiosity as she slowly began to drift off again, her face relaxing and her breathing growing slower and more steady. He felt warm and relaxed himself. Drifting off to sleep wouldn't be a difficult feat.

Rising from the bed, he looked down at the sleeping woman. What were the odds he'd run into a woman like this? Her life had been as fucked up as his had been, if anything much worse. A world that destroyed her and threw her away only to cry foul when they realized the creature they'd created. It brought to mind the heat and intensity of that first night they'd hooked up. The realization that – like him – she tapped into that darker part of her that wanted something dangerous and primal. Craving the pain, the domination but also wanting to bring pain and dominate. He used to wonder if his own rough childhood had anything to do with the things he liked. Rarely did he ever encounter anyone who was as into it as him that hadn't come from some form of dysfunction. He'd long ago quit entertaining the concept, accepting that he simply liked the things he liked and that was that. No point in mulling over it. She reveled in her likings as much as he did and didn't give a second thought to the potential root of it all.

Should he have found this whole thing odd? What were the chances of such a union? Two utterly dysfunctional adults with similar tastes stumbling across one another's path. Astronomical odds, yeah? He shook his head, unwilling to dwell much on the idea. Some fluke of the cosmos, if anything. Besides, had it not been her, it would have been some other bird. He had merely targeted her because she'd been one of the few who wasn't attached to any bloke and he figured conversation would go further with her than some of the other plastic bitches roaming the joint. Nice to have someone who can dish it back once in a while and not just giggle mindlessly at his remarks.

Life was peculiar, no doubt about it. What started with a drink and determination to get down her pants had turned into an odd little fling and pseudo kidnapping that landed Hailey here at his home. Her presence on the island was nowhere near as odd as he'd assumed it would be. And he benefited from it! That was the best fucking part! Hot meals and sex whenever he fucking wanted it. Stellar set-up right there! Having her there catered to his more base urges but he also realized that she catered to the part of him that did crave some form of companionship. He'd never realized how much he missed it or needed it. Rather hard pill to swallow when you got right down to it.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

2D rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted for breakfast but figured there was bound to be something in the cupboards. There'd been no shortage of good food since Hailey's arrival and for that he was beyond grateful. She kept the kitchen well stocked. Base ingredients for various recipes, numerous choices for snacks, fresh produce in the narrow fridge and far too many other for 2D to list them all. There were real options available. Not just a half eaten bag of stale crisps or some mystery container that had wildlife growing in it. Honestly, it had taken some getting used to. Even Murdoc seemed more content with the better food options, no longer pissing and moaning about some of Hailey's healthier meals. The whole healthy business started after Murdoc had busted up his hand and the decided to drink himself into a stupor, nearly falling over from blood loss and possibly even shock. Served the fucker right, really.

Buried in the back of the cupboard was a box of pancake mix. Smiling, 2D pulled the box out and set it aside, double checking the requirements. Only milk and eggs, eh? Easy enough. He began the task of measuring out the mix and other things needed. This would be a nice surprise for Hailey. Save her the trouble since she'd gone above and beyond for them. She'd been there for nearly two months now and had been tired and ill most of the time. He did note that she'd started retiring for bed earlier and earlier and then sleeping later and later, but assumed it had something to do with the twisted sex life she and Murdoc shared. It wasn't 2D's thing. He found no appeal in hurting a bed-partner, even if it was mutual. He was well aware that Hailey enjoyed it as much as Murdoc, but it still left an odd taste in the back of 2D's throat. Ignorance was bliss, when you got right down to it. They didn't really flaunt it, thankfully. He did find it interesting that any time he noticed marks on them was when Murdoc was shirtless or Hailey wore something that revealed a bit more skin. They kept the evidence of their play under wraps. He never asked about this peculiar observation. The marks were kept where they could be hidden by clothes. He was fine with that. He didn't exactly enjoy knowing how brutal they could be to one another when in the sanctuary of Murdoc's bedroom. Could be worse, he reasoned. At least his room was several floors away. He could still remember when his room had been right off the car-park at Kong, Murdoc's bloody motor home yards away. He'd overheard the bassist's sexual escapades frequently and many women leaving the man's Winnie in tears after their rounds with the pervert.

He returned his attention and focus to the pancake batter, the non-stick pan now warming on the stove-top. Having her at the island made things a bit more tolerable. Their isolation made it a rather lonely existence though. Seeing Murdoc and Hailey together made him more acutely aware of his loneliness. They didn't necessarily flaunt it, but they were warm with each other. Public displays of affection had never been a big thing for Murdoc and even 2D had lost count of the numerous little bimbos who'd want to be all over the man while out in public only to get pushed away with a curt warning and annoyed look. 2D had always enjoyed it when the women wrapped themselves around him. PDA was a non-issue. Initially, he'd assumed Murdoc's dislike of it had more to do with his utter inability to remain with one person. Can't have the world know he was attached, even if only briefly, right? But over the years, 2D realized that Murdoc simply disliked such public displays. A quick hug, touch or even kiss was one thing, but anything more intimate was private and he wanted it to remain that way.

Murdoc had become a bit more attentive in the wake of Hailey's unknown illness. When it had first been noticed, both he and Murdoc assumed it was some sort of weather illness brought on by the wonky fucking weather and maybe a spot of sea sickness. But as the weeks passed and Hailey never seemed to improve, they realized it might be something more. A virus, perhaps? It would explain her exhaustion. If she wasn't feeling ill, she was always tired. She never complained, never made any kind of fuss. She continued to make food, tidy up around the massive and oddly laid out house, carry on any and all conversations that struck their fancies. But you could see her exhaustion. Adding to this mystery illness was the suspicion that something else was bothering her. When not engaged in conversation, she was silent, lost in thought over something that eluded him and Murdoc. 2D wasn't even sure if Murdoc picked up that something else was going on. If he was aware, he certainly never said anything.

With pancakes now sizzling in the pan, he lit up a cigarette and leaned into the counters. Next on the agenda was coffee. As far as he knew, nobody else was up and about. It would be a pleasant surprise for Hailey to find breakfast and coffee waiting versus her having to prepare it all. He took another drag from his cigarette, turning back to the hot pan so he could flip the pancakes. They were looking quite good. When the first batch was done, he pulled them from the pan and onto a plate, pouring more batter into the pan for a second batch. He kept his focus on the pan, cigarette burning at his lip. He had to admit, the silence was welcoming. Something peaceful about mornings like this. Morning sun coming through the windows with the cool breeze accompanying it. No listening to Murdoc's disgusting sounding smoker's cough. How was it they all smoked but that man sounded the absolute worst? This was one of those mysteries of the world, he figured. Kind of like how the fuck was Murdoc still alive after all the abuse he'd done to himself through booze and drugs. Anyone else would have dropped dead by now, but the man was still going strong.

"Oh man, D, that is so unsanitary," Hailey said from behind him. He turned, seeing her standing in the entryway of the kitchen. Her dark hair was pulled into a loose and sloppy ponytail and the light robe only just covered the nightie. She didn't appear as tired or as ill as she normally appeared. She merely smiled at him as she ventured to the still dormant coffee maker. "Smoking while cooking, I mean," she added finally, grabbing the can of coffee from the cupboards.

"You're up early," he said cheerily, passing her his cigarette. "Was hopin' t' surprise you." He cast a sideways glance at her, catching her warm smile as she filled the coffee maker with the grounds out of the can. She did seem a little better. Cracking a gap-toothed grin, he scooped the pancakes out of the pan and slid them into the rising pile on the plate. "You seem improved today, Hailey. Feelin' better?"

"A little, I suppose." Her back was to him, the carafe in her hand as she filled it with tap water. "Still pretty tired, but my stomach isn't doing a number on me. That's a bonus!" After filling the coffee maker and turning it on, she made her way over to the kitchen table, pulling her jacket hanging off one of the chairs. "Need a cigarette, though."

2D cracked another gap-toothed smile, scooping the last of the pancakes from the pan and onto the heaping plate. "So when do we expect his majesty's presence?" He wasn't necessarily expecting Murdoc to wake anytime soon. It was barely after nine-thirty in the morning. The bassist was known for super late hours and then sleeping most of the day away. If he missed breakfast and coffee, that was on him.

"I imagine soon," Hailey said, exhaling smoke. "He mumbled at me when I got up. But who knows. He might have very well gone back to sleep." She paused, her brow knitting together briefly. Taking another drag, she frowned, now staring at her cigarette. "Maybe I need coffee first. This taste weird and my stomach isn't liking it..." Still frowning, she stubbed the cigarette out, shaking her head. "This has been a tough month, I swear. And here I thought I was getting better!"

2D merely nodded, unsure of how to respond. And here he thought it would be a good day for her. She'd been ill now for over a month. The first few weeks at the island were fine, for the most part, but about three weeks into their return was when it had hit her. He could recall not feeling all too great when he'd first arrived at Point Nemo, but for him, it had hit almost immediately and passed within a week or so. There was some curiosity as to why it took so long to strike in Hailey, but maybe she just had a stronger constitution? His own Mum was like that. Rarely ever became ill and when she did, it had often been weeks after he and his Dad had gone through something and finally got through it. Perhaps it was a woman thing?

Hailey went back to the coffee maker, pulling mugs from the cupboard. 2D found himself watching as she stretched up to the top shelf, his eyes traveling down her legs. The robe and nightgown were short, the hem of both stopping just shy of her knees. He could see the muscles in her calves flex as she stood up onto her tip-toes to reach. Biting his lip, he slowly moved his gaze to her backside. He knew he'd catch hell if he was caught staring, but he found it hard to tear his eyes away from her arse. He had no intentions on her and honestly had no real interest in her, but it was difficult not to stare. She was the only female in the house for christ's sake. How could you not notice when she walked around in such skimpy nightclothes? Fucking hell, he hadn't had a woman since the old tosser upstairs had kidnapped him out of Beirut. How long had it been now? Two years, maybe even three? He almost groaned aloud when she bent to retrieve something from the cupboards beneath the counters. No harm in looking, he reasoned. She was nice on the eyes in her own way. At least his body wasn't giving away his distress. Some small part of him registered that this was his friend and Murdoc's playmate and that alone was probably why he wasn't reacting in the normal fashion. He'd lost count of how often he had to adjust or hide himself when in the presence of pretty women while touring. It almost seemed odd that he could acknowledge the difference when all his eyes could take in were the nicely shaped legs and curves of the body moving around in front of him as she went about getting the things needed for their coffee.

The clunking sounds of the lift snapped 2D back from his wandering thoughts. After what had happened several weeks ago merely for hanging out with her, the last thing he felt like dealing with was catching Murdoc's wrath over ogling the woman. Hailey had asked them both about 2D bruised state and while neither one admitted to anything, 2D was pretty sure she knew who had done it. From outside the kitchen, they heard the doors of the lift and footsteps. There was a moment of silence when it was revealed to be the Cyborg, not Murdoc. It stood there, taking in the scene before it. "Master requests coffee."

Hailey sneered at it, pouring coffee into the three mugs. "His legs aren't broken. He can come down and get it." 2D picked up the wariness in her tone. When she'd been introduced to the thing, it was clear she was uncomfortable with it. He suspected it messed with what few memories she had of that hellish night after the concert. When it was finally revealed to her what had happened, there'd even been a suspicion that she didn't believe it. Who would believe such a thing? A cyborg? Even now, weeks later, there was a sense of disbelief and even a bit of caution. He didn't blame Hailey for being wary of the bloody thing. After all the trouble it had caused during the months of touring and what it had done to the singer and even the bassist, one would be stupid to not be cautious of it.

It cocked its head in Hailey's direction, glass eyes now fixed on her. "He also requests the female's presence."

"I have a name, tin can," Hailey snapped. "Go and tell your master he can come down and get his own damned coffee and later – when I feel up to it – I will entertain the idea of meeting upstairs."

"The Master requests your presence immediately," it said, the tone flat. "I was instructed to retrieve you and his morning drink." It stepped forward, taking in the scene in front of it. Or at least that was what it appeared to be doing to 2D. Would it try to take Hailey by force? There'd be no fighting it if that was what it chose to do. One would never imagine it being as strong as it was, particularly given its size. It stood almost a foot shorter than Hailey. But 2D could recall numerous times of being thrown over its shoulder and taken to where-ever it was ordered to take him. And this wasn't counting those other moments it had thrown him to the ground with one of its numerous guns poised at his head.

"Tell him he needs to get his lazy ass off the bed and come get his own coffee." She passed 2D his mug of coffee, her own in her hand. "I'm not leaving the kitchen." She merely stood there, not bothering to make any effort to move, almost challenging the dead and cold eyes of the Cyborg. 2D stifled a small laugh as he took a drink from his coffee mug. She wasn't going to back down. But neither would the thing in front of them. One had to wonder how it processed the information it received on a daily basis. The different demeanor of the various people around it, the different dialect, the more defiant Hailey versus compliant 2D.

It turned its head between the two of them, finally settling its gaze on Hailey again. "Master requests your presence for morning mating session."

2D bit his lip, dropping his eyes to the ground. How fucking embarrassing. Murdoc couldn't even come down and maybe a drop a subtle hint. No, he had to send the bleeding machine down to fetch her. How much more lazy could the man get? He'd have to be delusional to honestly think Hailey would entertain the idea now. He cast a sideways glance over at Hailey, who seemed more amused if anything. "Oh he did, did he?" She erupted into snorting laugh, taking another drink of her coffee. "Go back and tell him if he wants a morning romp, he needs to be a bit more suave about it. Sending you down here is a major mood kill."

It didn't move, still staring at Hailey. "I take orders from Murdoc Niccals, Master Bass Player and God. I do not take orders from the idiot singer or the female. If you do not accompany me back to the Master's bedroom, I will be given no choice but to take you by force."

2D could feel Hailey bristling, her eyes narrowing. If it did decide to take her by force, there'd be no fighting it. And some part of him actually enjoyed the idea of the repercussions Murdoc would face if the Cyborg did drag her back to his room. Any thoughts the man had of a morning shag would blow right out the window in two seconds flat. He looked over at Hailey, surprised to still see some amusement in her face in spite of her clearly growing agitation. "Reckon you could follow it back to the room and let him know this doesn't fly, yeah?"

"Oh believe me, I will," she muttered, taking a drink from her mug before setting it onto the counters. "He could be a bit more subtle about it. I mean, I know you're not ignorant to things, D, but this is ridiculous." She grabbed the other full mug of coffee, gesturing at the Cyborg. "I'm following, you bucket of fucking bolts." The Cyborg turned abruptly, leading the way out of the small kitchen. Hailey trailed behind, pausing only briefly at the doors. "Hold some pancakes, will you, D? I won't be long."

* * *

Murdoc examined his hand under the harsh lighting of the bathroom. It had healed up much better than he'd anticipated. And given the man-handling Hailey had done to it, he was surprised. The majority of the swelling was gone and his hand looked almost back to normal. There'd no doubt be a small scar where the bone had busted through the skin, but it was a small price to pay when he realized it could have been much worse. Other than the scar, he was pretty sure there'd be little else that gave away that the hand had been damaged so badly. He was okay with this. A few scars were one thing, limbs being malformed in some way were a completely different thing. He flexed it a few times, noting there was no pain and the cut didn't try to force itself open. This was great, actually. He most likely could abandon the use of the bandages all together! Stepping out of the bathroom, he flexed his hand a few more times, content now that most of the healing was done and over. "Gotta say, Poppet, you did a bang up job with m' hand."

Hailey paused in the midst of dressing herself, flashing a small smile as she tugged her shirt over her head. "Be thankful I was able to do it right. Basic first aid, I can do. You probably should have gone to a legitimate doctor regarding the re-set and the break itself."

Murdoc grabbed his jeans from the top of the dresser and sat at the edge of the bed. The clock by the bed said it was still late morning. They'd been hidden away in his room for the better part of the hour. When the Cyborg had originally brought her back, he was pretty certain that any ideas of a morning shag were about to fly straight out the window. To his surprise, as soon as he excused the machine from his room, Hailey was crawling across him, smiling in that peculiar little way that told him all was well and things went from there. Maybe he was making up for all that lost time? After going as long as he had without, having a woman so close and willing to fuck at the drop of a hat was almost overwhelming. Or maybe it was the odd realization that it was the same woman every time? Regularity had never been his thing. He could recall numerous women over the course of one week. This line of women trickled to nothing once the fame and money faded out of the equation. Then with all that had been going on around him, finding even a shag for the night had become more of a chore than he cared for.

He glanced over at Hailey, watching as she finished dressing herself. This whole thing had started simply because he'd seen what he assumed was an easy target for the night. An opportunity to get some much needed release from the agitation and stress he'd been feeling for so long. He'd about come in his pants when she dragged him onto her, hissing into his ear that she wanted him to hit her. It had been those moments that led to him deciding it would be nice to keep her around for the short time he was there. There'd been no illusions about their little thing at first. He initially saw it as purely physical and by all appearances, so did she. But as the days progressed and the stress of the whole mess he'd made started to weigh down on him, he began to seek her company more for comfort than sex. And during the last practice session with the band, mere hours before the show, he realized there'd been a great deal of potential there with the woman. Their mutual likings regarding sex were certainly a bonus, but there had also been the fact that they could relate in other areas. And though she was a difficult person to read, he was pretty certain she was seeing the same thing and just not voicing it aloud.

Murdoc lit a cigarette, still watching Hailey as she smoothed out her hair and pulled it back into the pony-tail she'd been sporting when she'd first come back to the room. Her presence on the island was an accident, a fluke series of events that should never have played out as they did. Water under the bridge at this point, he reasoned. It was obvious she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He knew there might come a time when they'd grow tired of one another and part ways. It was a given, especially with him. Only a small few lasted more than a few months with him before deciding he was too much of a handful and leaving. He knew he was a difficult partner, even on the best of days. He didn't expect any different from Hailey, really. She'd either prove her worth and stick it out or decide it was too much and he'd wake to find her side of the bed empty and her personal belongings gone. It wasn't something he wanted to think on too much. Best to simply play it day by day and they'd cross that bridge when it came.

Her mystery illness had been a little troubling. In the early stages, there'd been days she couldn't hold anything down or even get out of bed. Thank Satan the dent-head kept bottled water handy. Murdoc never thought far enough ahead to keep any of that shit on hand. At first, he assumed it was her body adjusting to the island, but as the weeks progressed and it never got better, he began to think it might be something more serious but was at a complete loss as to what could be causing it. And he despised not knowing. It was obviously not contagious since neither he or Stu came down with it. There'd been a few late nights on his end as he went through an ancient medical book he kept on hand, cross referencing her symptoms, or browsing the internet to see what came up. Neither offered much. No definitive answers to what had struck her down so hard. He doubted it was anything that really required on the clock medical attention, so this narrowed his options down considerably. But research yielded too little and after striking out various illnesses, syndromes and viruses, he'd been left with either food poisoning or just a really bad case of the flu.

She apparently was starting to feel more herself, whatever it had been finally seeming to run its course. There were times he thought she was a little quiet and distant, but this never showed when she was interacting with him or Two-Dents. More than once he had caught her simply standing out at the beach or on the balcony, lost in thought and oblivious to his presence. He never let on that he was watching or that he took notice of her more somber demeanor. Could be any number of things troubling her. Homesickness, this bizarre new life she'd unwittingly gotten dragged into, the issues with her former friend and flat-mate. She never mentioned much regarding the Alicia bird. And while she'd made it clear there was nothing holding her to Seattle, she'd lived there through most of her adult life and had made a good life for herself. It would be normal to miss it. Hell, there were days he missed parts of Stoke, rare as they were. As for Hailey, he figured she'd either come to terms with whatever it was troubling her or at least say something to either him or Stu eventually.

The touch of her hand across his bare shoulders snapped him back from his thoughts, seeing Hailey merely smile down at him as she eased herself slowly across his knees. Straddling his lap, she worked both hands into his hair, smoothing it away from his face. A low rumble of contentment erupted from him as he allowed his head to sink into the softness of her breasts, mentally cursing the shirt that separated him from them. "Dun' stop what you're doin'," he groaned against the material. "This feels good." He brought his hands around her back, pulling her closer. No denying how much he enjoyed this. He could feel her shifting across his legs, inching closer. Pressing his face deeper into her chest, his thoughts faded out as he focused on the feel of her fingers and nails. All the simple things he'd taken for granted or never thought he needed. Simple comforts he'd convinced himself that he no longer had need for. Too unwilling to admit that he missed them. Perhaps he was now making up for lost time, eager to immerse himself in the softness as often as he could. Take as much as she was willing to give. And for the most part, she never refused.

"Breakfast is ready down in the kitchen," she whispered against his ear, slowly moving back. He tightened his hold, unwilling to let her free. Breakfast could fucking wait. He shook his head, turning his focus to a breast, chewing on it through the shirt. A small shiver rippled through her when he found the nipple beneath the shirt and thicker layer of her bra. Bringing his hand back around, he shoved the shirt and bra away, burying his face into the exposed breast. He could feel her trembling against him, her hands no longer in his hair. Pulling his other hand back around, he shoved the other side of her shirt and bra up, turning his focus to the other breast. When his teeth grazed against the more sensitive nipple, her hips twitched on reflex. Christ, his own body was reacting to just her reactions. With each flex of her hips, his jeans felt tighter and tighter.

He continued to nip and suck at her breast, slowly pulling her back to the bed. Hailey tugged the shirt over her head, struggling only briefly to get the bra off and flinging that to the side. Murdoc tore his focus from her breasts, inching his way up, dragging his tongue across her skin as he turned his focus to the more tender spot just beneath her jaw. Her hands fluttered at his sides, small noises escaping from her as he pressed his hips hard into hers. When her hands attempted to get between them, fingers brushing against the button of his jeans, he pressed harder. "Not yet," he murmured against her throat. He continued to grind hard into her, feeling her frustration rise. As much as he wanted to shed his jeans and peel hers off, he found that he did enjoy this. Usually they were quick to shed every article of clothing they wore and get down to business. Par for the course, really. But there was something insanely hot about the partial skin to skin contact with the layers of denim still separating them. She was all but whining beneath him, trying in vain to get to either his jeans or hers, small noises of frustration erupting from her when he pressed against her as hard as he could, barring her hands from getting close.

Christ, he was aching for it now, but he continued with the teasing kisses and licks, rocking against her slowly. When he moved back down to her breasts, he finally lifted his hips from hers, almost laughing aloud when her hands shot between them, tearing the button loose on his jeans and then all but ripping her jeans open. He worked his way down, dragging his tongue across her ribs, her stomach, pausing only long enough to nip and kiss at her skin. She pushed her jeans and panties from her hips, giving him more room to explore. He drew back long enough to peel her jeans from her legs, shoving his own away and kicking them to the floor. She merely lay there, staring up at him with glazed half-mast eyes, legs pulled up and bent at the knees. Sweet Satan, he hurt. Every dull throb from his aching erection could be felt through every nerve ending across his body. He just wanted to get right down to business, bury his cock into her as deep as it could go and then slam himself into oblivion.

Hailey was reaching over her head, fumbling into the little bed-side table drawer, pulling out the familiar little foil packet. He took the packet from her, tearing it with his teeth. Some moments he cursed the little necessities but also realized that they both hadn't made it this far on luck alone, especially at their ages and with their track record when it came to partners. Being smart in this regard gave them both a clean bill of health and had saved him from several paternity claims. He almost groaned aloud as he rolled the pesky little contraceptive over his cock, his eyes surfacing from the task and meeting her still glazed expression. Crawling back over her, he bent low, dragging his tongue back up the length of her body. This was his. His to have whenever he wanted. His to do with as he pleased. He could feel her hips twitching against him, her breath coming out in short rapid huffs. When he finally eased himself in, a dull noise erupted from her as she tensed and arched beneath him. He worked into her slowly, feeling her body rock to meet his. Fuck, it took every ounce of will power to maintain the slow and steady pace he was managing. He wanted so badly to just start thrusting into her as hard as he could. He wasn't even sure what prompted him to decide to take it slow. Something different, perhaps? Hard to deny how much of a turn on it was to see her writhing and moaning beneath him.

Her hands were on his back, drawing him closer, mouth pressing hard to his. He quickened his pace, feeling her moan against his mouth, the sound buzzing in his head. When she broke away, her voice was almost at his ear, her breath blazing hot against his cheek. "Fuck me harder." Pushing himself away from her, he wrangled her legs around and rolled her onto her stomach. She wanted him to fuck her harder, he'd fucking give it to her. He'd fuck her into the bed and down to China. Fuck her so hard she wouldn't be able to get out of bed tomorrow. He pulled her hips back, one hand sliding into the wetness between her thighs, feeling every muscle in her body react when his fingers slid into her. Guiding himself into her, he grabbed her hips and dragged her back onto his cock, thrusting against her as hard as he could. The only sounds that registered in his ears were the low growls coming from him and the hard slap of skin against skin. Her face was hidden by the tangled mass of her hair, the sounds coming from her finally reaching his ears and only firing him up further. She was snugness and heat. She was fire. He could feel the familiar tightening in his balls and gut, the sensations alerting him that the end would be soon. He shifted his weight on his knees, driving into her at an upward angle, her moans turning into sputtering cries. This was it, he could feel it. The way her muscles tensed, both inside and out. The cries coming from the mass of hair pressed to the bed louder. He couldn't take it anymore, thrusting harder and faster, his own voice now echoing in the room when release finally slammed home.

For a long moment the only sound he could hear was the white noise in his head and the blood thundering in his ears. He uttered a groan, using her rump to hold himself upright, still joined to her. She was panting beneath him, her knuckles still clutching the comforter. Taking a breath, he slumped backwards, legs tucked beneath him. "Fuckin' christ." Every part of him was tingling. His fingers, his toes, even his scalp. When the white noise finally receded, he blinked, looking down at her. She was still laying in the same position on the comforter, face down and arse up. Giving her rump a playful smack, he chuckled softly when a small yelp escaped. "I didn't break you, did I?"

The mass of hair shook a little, her face emerging as she pushed herself up and sat back onto her legs. "No...just needed to get my bearings a little." She smoothed her hair from her face, exhaling softly. "Our breakfast is cold by now."

Murdoc gave a dismissive shrug, climbing up from the bed to grab his jeans. Food did sound insanely good, but so did just sitting out on the massive balcony and taking in the sun. His legs were still trembling and his nerve endings still felt numb. Half groaning and half laughing, he stretched his arms and back as he sauntered towards the dresser for his cigarettes. From the bed behind him, he could hear her shakily getting to her feet, small groans escaping from her as she fumbled for her clothing. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, smiling at the stumbling woman as she struggled to pull her clothes on. "You sure 'bout eatin' somethin' the dent-head made, love?" He raised his eyebrows as he lit his cigarette. "Dunno 'bout you, but I'd be a bit scared."


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

There was no sign of Murdoc in the bedroom. Hailey had to thank the universe for this stroke of luck. Though it wouldn't be too much of an odd sight to see her carrying some of the boxes from the most recent supply shipments, this one in particular had something in there she needed and did not need him seeing. Not at the moment, anyway. Though he rarely ever questioned what she ordered, the item in the box would most certainly set off his alarms. She needed the chance to gather her own thoughts on the matter. There was no doubt in her mind now, the item in the box would only verify what she already knew. She'd been on the island for nearly three months and the original box of toiletries ordered still lay under the sink, unopened. Luckily, the boys were not a very observant lot in that regard, not even Murdoc noticing that she'd had no need for the items. Of course, any thought or discussion of a woman's body and its normal functions made the man visibly uncomfortable. Ignorance was bliss as far as he was concerned.

She set the box onto the counter by the sink, closing the bathroom door behind her and locking it tight. Cutting open the box, she rummaged through, pulling out various soaps and toothpastes. She spotted the familiar aftershave Murdoc seemed partial to as well as the shower spray she normally used. Further in were the items 2D preferred, special hypo-allergenic soaps, deodorant and a small bottle of cologne. Did the item not make the shipment? She was already almost to the bottom and still no sign of it. Muttering under her breath, she pulled out the various packages and bottles, smiling when she reached the bottom and pulled out the final item. She knew it would tell her what she already knew, but there'd been some small hope that it was a false alarm. Ten weeks on the island and never having a need for her personal items? Struggling for several weeks with a sick stomach that left her barely able to hold anything down and so fatigued, she could barely get out of bed? There were other things she took notice of as well, small physical changes that so far had escaped Murdoc's eye. Most of her jeans were finally getting too snug. She could pull them on, but buttoning them was a chore. It wasn't her thighs or ass that made them difficult, it was her stomach. There'd also been some subtle changes in her breasts. They'd become achy and tender and she found herself sometimes struggling with the pain when Murdoc man-handled them.

She still had a few pairs of jeans that fit half-assed alright, but she knew they would be short-lived. And it helped keep things under the radar for the time being. Most of her waking hours spent on the island were spent in comfortable lounge-pants and looser shirts. As long as she sported a pair of jeans now and again, everyone else was none the wiser.

Staring at the little box, she chewed her lip. This was a waste of ten dollars. Deep down, she knew. All the signs led to this. She wasn't sure what she was feeling on the matter. He'd have to know eventually, right? Not like she would be able to hide it much longer. He may have been completely oblivious to her personal toiletries, but she wouldn't be able to disguise the growing waist-line forever. Hell, given how much focus he put on her body, she was surprised he hadn't noticed already. But men were weird in that regard. If she'd learned anything about men in her dating years, it was that they were often oblivious as fuck when it came to things regarding the female body. They were getting a chance to tap it and that was all they seemed to notice or care about. But he would notice eventually. She might be able to keep things under wraps another month or so and that would be by pure luck alone. He'd notice and most likely freak out. After the mishaps of his younger years, he'd taken every precaution available short of getting himself snipped. And there'd been a few drunken nights on his end where he'd made his stance perfectly clear in this regard. He didn't want the five grown ones he'd unwittingly sired so what would make him want any at this point in his life? She didn't blame him, really. She felt the same way about herself. Short of abortion, she'd utilized every method available to keep herself from ending up with an unplanned accident. There'd even been one or two hungover trips to the local pharmacy for Plan B.

Might as well get on with it. Face the cold hard truth of the matter and then figure out just what she planned to do next. She unwrapped the box quickly, staring at the stick as if it were something alien. In a way, it was. She'd never had a scare, never had a reason to purchase one of these. She understood the basic concept of it, looking over the instructions quickly before setting them aside. Easy enough. The results would be almost instant. One line meant negative, two lines meant positive. It did emphasize that a first piss of the morning would yield the best results, but whatever. A mid-day one would be just as good at this point.

After taking care of the necessities, she set the stick aside and straightened herself out, flushing the toilet and turning to the sink to wash her hands. She glanced at the stick, watching as the color smeared through the little window, two bold pink lines appearing within a matter of moments. Sighing, she shoved a hand through her hair. Well, she had her proof. No amount of half assed denial changed this, now did it? The truth was there in her face. There was still the question of when it could have happened, but did that really matter now? She was pretty damned near close to positive it happened in Seattle. Amazing how one little window of opportunity opened itself up in those four nights, yeah? She wasn't naïve enough to believe it couldn't happen to her. What's the saying? It only took once? Hell, even with all the precautions taken, there was a small chance of it happening regardless.

Shoving the stick into its box, she tucked it beneath the sink, behind her box of feminine items. The next step was figuring out just what she wanted to do and how to go about telling him. How exactly do you break something like this to a man who prided himself on escaping any and all responsibility in his life? And what about her? She wasn't even sure what she wanted to do anymore. Making arrangements to rid herself of the problem would take time and require transport to whatever country they could find a clinic. If her math was correct, she was nearing twelve weeks right? There was also the fact that he could easily claim it wasn't his, citing her lifestyle to justify his doubts. Couldn't fault him for believing such a thing. She admitted that she enjoyed her singles life to the fullest. But he'd been the first man she'd had in at least several months. So this narrowed things down considerably, obviously.

Both Murdoc and 2D were in the kitchen when she finally emerged, chattering happily about some grand drinking plans they'd arranged. Hailey caught snippets of their conversation as she went about making herself something to snack on. She could feel 2D's eyes on her as she prepared her sandwich with shaking hands. "You a'right?" he asked softly.

She gave a curt nod, shoving the sandwich together and taking an enormous bite. "Never better," she said through a mouthful of food. She could tell by the look on his face that he didn't buy it. She swallowed the massive mouthful of food, nodding her head for emphasis. "I'm cool, D, I swear. Low blood sugar or something."

2D cocked an eyebrow, the look on his face telling her that he still didn't buy it. It occurred to Hailey that the guys might have even been discussing her odd demeanor amongst themselves. She knew she'd been acting a bit off for the last few weeks, no matter how much she tried to keep it under wraps. Her gaze traveled from 2D to Murdoc. If he suspected anything, he wasn't giving it away. Cool and casual with a small half smile just barely noticeable. 2D cast a quick look at Murdoc before bringing his attention back to Hailey as she took another bite from her sandwich. "You've been kinda quiet lately. Ever'fin' 'kay wiff you?"

She nodded again, swallowing the bite. "I'm telling you, I'm fine." Though Murdoc's expression was unreadable, the look of concern could be seen a mile away on 2D. They probably had been discussing her from time to time. She'd been too quiet. Too lost in thought. Wanting some level of solitude just a bit too often to sort out the odd and conflicting thoughts in her head. She'd already knew what the test would say, so matter how many different excuses and reasons she could come up with. She'd knew that she'd have to say something soon. And even as she catalogued the various ways to deal with the problem she'd been facing, she'd found herself completely at a loss at what to do. Did she really want to rid herself of the problem? Reason said it was best. Reason usually always won out. But she'd started thinking more and more on it, realizing she didn't want to be so quick to determine its fate. But it had been far too many weeks now and her windows of opportunity were closing, if not already closed. Another few weeks and she'd be stuck with it no matter what. Another few weeks and they'd have no choice but to face what was happening. Shoving the last of the sandwich into her mouth, she grabbed her cigarettes from the table and ventured back to the lift. There were other options that could be taken, right? Fire Stations and hospitals that offered Safe Havens, agencies that handled the necessary paperwork that would sever their ties to it permanently. She frowned, staring at the panel of buttons, pushing at the one that would take her to the study. Who the hell was she kidding? She couldn't sentence it to a life of a lie. Sure, it might end up with a great set of new caretakers, but it still didn't change the fact that everything about it and where it came from would be altered to keep hers and Murdoc's identity a secret. A legal lie and nothing more. She'd always felt strongly in that regard, maybe because she'd drifted with nowhere to call home as a child. She'd expressed specific views on the matter to her caseworker when she was old enough to understand what would happen. She'd refuse to use the new birth certificate. She'd continue to use her original and they could all fuck off. Nobody was going to change her whole identity and act like her parents and her previous life were nothing but a fantasy that never happened. Of course, this made it more difficult to find her a permanent home. Nobody wanted the stubborn eleven year old who refused to have her name changed and loudly proclaimed she's never go by a new name and refused to tell the adults around here where she kept her original certified birth certificate, even when they told her she could get into heaps of trouble legally should she go by her original name and use the birth certificate for proof. She was eleven years old and already broken beyond repair, like their stupid fucking threats had meant anything to her at that point. Destroy her physically, destroy her emotionally and then strip her identity away from her? Yeah, fuck all of you.

Standing in the study, Hailey exhaled loudly. She'd sooner terminate than sentence it to the lifetime mind-fuck of a falsified identity. Lighting her cigarette, she passed through the study to the balcony. Her options were narrowing down. She knew she wouldn't have the heart to go through with a Safe Haven or even a formal legal adoption. Her own beliefs on the matter made it impossible to really consider. Of course, he might not react as negatively as she believed he would. She had not really entertained this through too much. Observation told her his reaction would be bad. He was a forty-four year old man child. Anything that smacked of responsibility was brushed aside in favor of living it up as much as he could. But what was to say he wouldn't warm to the idea once the reality of it set in? They had a pretty good thing going on, right? She wasn't exactly sure what it was they had, but must have been good if they weren't killing each other yet. The only thing that could be concerning was the fact that something this big and serious almost always caused strain even in the most solid of relationships. And she had to face the fact that they weren't necessarily solid. They played it one day at a time. They weren't serious. Not even remotely. Or maybe they were and nothing was said out loud? Why was this bullshit so difficult? Was it so hard to just spill it and determine the next step after taking in his reaction? He'd have to know. She had – if anything – a moral obligation to let him know what was happening. He'd either take the time to think it over and warm up to the idea or he'd flip the fuck out and send her on her merry way to deal with the problem herself.

* * *

The room was darker than he was accustomed to. She must have closed the blinds down to keep the light from coming in. Hailey did that often enough. Murdoc could sleep through almost anything but sometimes even a faint noise would wake Hailey, regardless of how few hours of sleep she'd gotten. She'd become a hell of a light sleeper lately. He erupted into a massive yawn, scratching at his nuts absently. Judging by the warmth in the room and brightness of the light coming through the slats of the blinds, it was most likely close to mid-day. Time held not real relevance on the island. Not like they had anywhere to be or much to do. Both Murdoc and 2D could sleep most of the day away and not bat an eye about eating lunch when most were eating supper. Hailey functioned off some sort of pseudo schedule. Murdoc would usually wake briefly enough to realize she was getting out of bed. Between nine and ten seemed to be her most common time. Every so often, he'd get up with her and more than once, he'd overheard conversation outside from the balcony that told him the dent-head was up and about with her.

Climbing from the bed, Murdoc stretched and yawned again. Coffee sounded good. So did a cigarette or two. Maybe see what the satellite telly had to watch. He wasn't big with news or other bullshit. Why should he care about the state of the world around him? He had his own private fucking island and answered to no one. Sure, he sometimes caught blips regarding the political climate back home, but he hadn't given a toss about them then and certainly didn't give a toss now. The only one who seemed to prefer watching the various news programs was Hailey. Her local stations had run segments about her disappearance and the occasional blip came up regarding the connection to the final concert, but otherwise nobody had put two and two together. She'd disappeared under suspicious circumstances, but the authorities didn't suspect foul play? She was last seen with two men who had a whole bunch of crazy bullshit going on around them and nobody suspected the end of the concert and her disappearance were related? Either the authorities in her city were utter fucking morons or it just proved that nobody really gave two shits about her.

He ambled his way to the washroom, squinting under the harsh lighting as he stood over the toilet to relieve himself. He gazed around the bathroom sleepily, taking in the little things that gave away the female presence in their lives now. He'd always assumed living in such close quarters with a woman would drive him mad, but found it was nowhere near as horrible as he suspected. She didn't ride his arse about the messes, kept out of his way when he needed alone time but was always there when he needed someone to talk to. The last three months had been eye-opening. They both shared similar beliefs and thoughts over numerous topics and of the few they differed on, could debate for hours, even days. They'd debated for nearly a week straight over the whole concept of socialized health care. She'd made some great points, but it didn't change the fact that he felt a person's financial status should effect the level of care one receives. Okay, fine, health care was a human right, but good health care should rely on what you're willing to pay. If the poor family can't afford a transplant for little Tommy, sucks to be them. The rich guy down the hall should get first dibs on that organ and not have to wait on any list. Hailey vehemently disagreed. Both should have equal chance to receive said organ. If they're on a list, it should be who was put on the list first. If the rich guy was already pushing his way through death's door, then the child should take priority.

Giving himself a few shakes, he flushed the toilet, chuckling to himself. It wasn't difficult to admit that he enjoyed the stimulus. Half the topics they discussed or debated would have gone straight over Two-Dent's head. Debating with the dullard was like trying to explain why animal shelters had to euthanize the animals in their care. 2D relied heavily on emotion to charge his arguments. There were just some things you couldn't rely on emotion for. The bureaucracy of the world relied on fact and logic, not your sodding feelings on the matter.

Erupting into another massive and loud yawn, Murdoc stood over the sink, washing his hands quickly. Though the reflection that stared back at him looked sleep-deprived and a bit haggard, he realized he wasn't feeling too terrible. He'd gotten a decent night's sleep for once and it was actually a bit of a shock how good he felt. For having a woman share his room, she kept the bathroom amazingly free of the clutter he associated with most females. Bottle of shower spray, a bar of scented soap, deodorant and a hairbrush. If anything, he had more things than she did. His gaze fell to the foreign object that stood just off to the left. A box of some sort. His brow furrowed, now staring at the thing. Some oddball female contraption, no doubt. It was amazing how many odd and curious things they made for women. Whatever the item was, it had been opened and used. He grabbed the box, peering in at the little thing inside before examining the box itself. Reading the front of the box, he felt his throat go dry. No bloody way. Pulling the stick out with shaking hands, he looked it over carefully. One line negative, two lines positive? He knew what this was. It was the last fucking thing he wanted to see in his bathroom. Seeing the two bold lines, he groaned out loud as he dropped it back into its box. Why the hell hadn't she said anything? And when the hell could it have happened? He thought back through the weeks, realizing quickly that the signs had been there. The weeks of illness, the constant fatigue. It had been right in his face and he'd been utterly blind to it. The one thing he'd never considered when he'd been trying to find out what was wrong with her. And no doubt she'd known. She knew and had kept it a secret. What the hell did she hope to accomplish by not saying anything?

He slipped out of the bathroom, his legs numb. How the hell did something like this happen when he'd been so fucking careful? Was it possible that it wasn't his? She got around a bit, admitted it herself. She didn't seem like the type to pin something like this on the wrong man, though. And hadn't she mentioned a bit of a dry spell before meeting him? He groaned again, slumping into the bed. "HAILEY!" he barked, his throat still dry. This wasn't real. This wasn't happening. He was too old for this shit. He didn't want this shit. She'd need to be reasonable. They didn't need something like this in their lives. It would take some time, but he could make proper arrangements and they could simply move along as if it never happened. "Hailey!" he barked again, finally hearing the sounds of the lift.

She emerged from the narrow corridor outside the room, her expression passive. "Yes?" She was too casual, too at ease. She knew exactly why he was about to have a fucking heart attack. Peering up at her through a veil of hair, he pointed towards the bathroom. She cocked her head, casually walking to the narrow washroom. "Okay...what?"

"You bloody well know what!" he snapped, raking his fingers through his hair. "How the fuck did you sneak that thin' in t' the order? What the hell am I seein'?"

She picked up the box, looking it over carefully. "It's a pregnancy test. One line means negative, two lines mean positive. I see two lines on this thing." She stood in the doorway, leaning into the frame, holding the box. "Positive..."

"I know what it is an' I know what the hell it means!" he croaked, glowering at her. He took a deep breath, feeling his heart slam hard in his chest, everything feeling as if it were closing in on him. Licking his dry lips, he scrubbed his hands across his face. "How? How the hell did it happen?"

She gave a small shrug, her face unreadable. "Dunno. Basic biology, I guess."

"Dun' play daft with me, woman." He pushed himself to his feet, gesturing towards the small bed-side table. "We're careful 'nough. Christ, there's 'nough bloody rubbers in that drawer t' last us until fuckin' doomsday!"

Exhaling loudly, she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I don't think it happened here."

Murdoc swallowed hard, his throat dry and uncooperative. Surely she was fucking with him at this point. Taking advantage of his panicked and stressed state. "You dun' think it happened here? Hailey, you've been here three bloody months. You can't stand there an' tell me you didn't know 'bout this sooner. So you decide t' wait until now t' fuckin' say somethin'?"

She frowned, meeting his gaze. "Honestly, I don't know. Denial, maybe? You think I'm all hunky dory with this? This wasn't exactly part of a bucket list, Murdoc." Sighing, she approached the bed, sinking down at the edge beside him. "I'm not sure what to do."

"I could suggest a few thins'," he muttered bitterly, shaking his head. "Aren't there pills?"

"Too far for those now," she whispered. "They wouldn't have gotten here in time anyway, I don't think. They only work if your eight, nine weeks or less." She frowned, brushing some of the loose hair away from her face. "And with all the hoops you have to jump through just to see a doctor at a clinic in the states, it could be another six to eight weeks before I could get in. And I know you don't want to hear this, but by that point, I wouldn't feel comfortable going through with it. I don't think legally I even could."

Murdoc shook his head, dragging his hands across his face. If she'd said something sooner, they could have dealt with it accordingly. They were nearing the point of no return. He never bothered to look into the laws too much in regards to this. Most of those who had come forward in the past had either been liars out for a buck or he'd found out after the fact that their little accidents weren't even his. He was as ignorant of the laws as any other man. It didn't affect him outright so he'd never paid much attention to the blips on the news regarding the womens health clinics. Most of the news reports he'd caught had more to do with all the asinine laws the states kept trying to pass. "What 'bout South America? We could make it there in a week or so."

Hailey let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "Good luck with that. Most of South America is run by the Catholic church, Murdoc. We'd stand a snowballs chance in hell finding anyplace that would do it." Sighing, she gingerly touched at her stomach. "I'm not sure what I want or even if I could go through with it if I could. I'm scared to death. I keep thinking history is going to repeat itself, you know? My mom died having me, what if I die?"

Lighting a cigarette, he passed her one. So what else was left for them to consider? Was it possible to find home remedies? But if the pills had a specific time frame, it was also likely that any natural concoctions would as well. Her hesitation to say something sooner had left them with such a limited amount of time to figure something out, almost all their options were out of reach. Christ, how could she do this to him? Even if she suspected a false alarm several weeks ago, better she voice her suspicions so they could have fucking dealt with this in a timely manner. The only other option was to watch it grow and then look into those safe haven things he'd heard about. "Dun' your country have those safe haven law type thins'?"

For a split second, he glimpsed an animosity he'd never known flash across her face, her green eyes narrowing. "That is not an option." As quickly as he noticed it, it was gone, her expression relaxing as she peered up at him. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Why not?" he asked softly, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Dunno 'bout you, but no way in hell I'm ready for this."

"I have my reasons." Rising from the bed, she stood over him, staring down at him stonily. "I'm not ready for this anymore than you. If it's too much for you, we can call quits whatever we have going on and you can send me back. I won't rock the boat. We can go our separate ways and you'll never have to worry about this."

"I dun' buy that at all," he said through a laugh. "I'm not thick, Hailey. You say this now, but how long before you file a claim?" If she honestly thought he'd buy that bullshit, she had another thing coming. He'd dealt with enough claims to know most birds wanted that meal ticket. His net worth would make any support payments astronomical. She was sincere enough now, but if things got difficult for her down the road, there'd be nothing stopping her from filing the necessary paperwork and taking him to the fucking cleaners. Christ, she'd never have to work another day in her life if she successfully dragged him to court for support. And he'd be paying until he was well into his fucking sixties, if he lived that long.

Hailey shook her head, lighting her cigarette. "Believe what you want, Murdoc. I'm giving you an option most women would never give. I'm still not sure what I want or what I plan to do, but if you can't deal with this, you're free to walk away. Think on it."

Murdoc watched as she left the room, her words lingering. She really was willing to let him walk? To go on as if she and the thing growing inside her never existed? Experience told him it would only be a matter of time before she showed up in his life again. And this time, the claim would be legit. She'd be well within her legal rights to file a claim against him. Of course, they could simply part ways and other than the financial obligation, he could have little else to do with it. Pay her without the courts getting involved. It was a valid option and ensured his bank account and privacy didn't get invaded.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed by the time he'd left the room. He moved on auto-pilot, only vaguely noticing that Hailey was nowhere to be found through the house. At one point, he was almost certain he'd overheard her and 2D talking in hushed voices behind the closed doors of the recording studio, but had been too lost in his own conflicting thoughts to check. The knee jerk reaction was to rid himself of the problem, he couldn't deny that, but he also realized that ridding himself of the problem meant ridding himself of Hailey. He wasn't ready or willing to do that just yet. He enjoyed her food, enjoyed the warmth of her body in bed and enjoyed her overall presence. She offered comforts he hadn't had in years and he didn't want to lose that just yet. He had to face the fact that accepting her presence in his life – even if only for a short while – also meant accepting what they'd unwittingly created.

He found himself on the massive patio just outside the study. Lighting another cigarette, he stared out at the miles of ocean before him. He was really in between a rock and hard place here, wasn't he? No way in hell was he ready or willing to take on the responsibility of parenthood but in order to keep Hailey there, he had to accept it. Of course, he could just ignore the bloody little thing and leave it to her to take care of. He would know what to do with it anyway. Probably drop it in his ash-tray knowing his luck. The last time he'd been face to face with an infant was when he was little more than a tot himself. He didn't care for them then and he certainly didn't care for them now. Noisy, smelly and useless little creatures. Exhaling smoke into the still and muggy air, he groaned aloud. This was just too fucking much. He didn't know what to think, what to do.

Hearing the slider door, he perked his head up, seeing 2D step out. The two men regarded one another warily as 2D stood beside him, lighting his own cigarette. "Congrats, mate," he said, cracking a small smile. "Just heard the news."

"Go 'way, Tusspot," Murdoc grumbled, resting his forehead on the rails. "This is the last fuckin' thin' I need at the moment." Was it too fucking much to ask for some solitude? Christ, the house was huge and there were only three of them, surely the lanky bastard could find another room to go to.

Of course, 2D didn't budge from his place beside him, smoking his cigarette casually. "Shoulda figured you'd make it all 'bout you." He didn't even bother to hide the disgust in his voice. "Nuffin' but a selfish bastard, fat's what you are." He took a drag from the cigarette, glaring at Murdoc. "She's juss as scared as you are, juss so you know."

Murdoc uttered a humorless laugh as he slowly lifted his head from the rails. "There are still options available an' she won't even consider them, dent-head." He flicked his cigarette from the rails, watching as it disappeared to the beach below. "I know we can find a clinic t' deal with it...at worse, one of those safe haven thins' the states have."

"She's far 'nough 'long t' make fat pretty difficult, Murdoc," 2D said in a low voice. "By the time you even find a clinic an' get the arrangements made, she'd be too far 'long. An' if you did find a place willin' t' do it, I'd be more scared for her health fan an'fink." He raked a hand through his shaggy blue hair, turning his gaze back to the beach and ocean before them. "She feels the safe haven laws are shit an' a violation t' the child's right t' know where they came from."

"What 'bout our right t' not be found or known t' the bloody thin'?" Murdoc grumbled, lighting another cigarette. Who cared if dumping it at a hospital eradicated any chance of it knowing who they were. Be grateful it got a good family and leave them alone. Best it never know who they were anyway. What right did it have to try to invade their lives and demand answers? What about their right to remain anonymous? "It dun' have a right t' know who we are."

2D erupted into a short laugh, shaking his head. "Hailey disagrees. She grew up wiffout parents an' wiffout a home, Murdoc. You know fis. She supports the right t' know where you came from. She has friends who can't even see their original birff certificates b'cause they were adopted. She despises the safe haven option because she feels its a violation of the child's rights to know its origins. Nuffink more fan a feel good law fat didn't fix the issue it was tryin' t' fix."

"We have a right t' get on with our lives as if it didn't exist," Murdoc hissed, refusing to look at the singer. Honestly, who gave a shit if a few ungrateful punks wanted their original records and were denied. Why not just accept their family didn't want them and carry on?

"An' it has a right t' know where it came from," 2D said firmly. "You made it, you lost any right t' privacy, mate. Not even sure why you're bitchin' b'cause you know Hailey won't even consider it. An' I hate t' say it, but knowin' you can be a sneaky bastard, the law only allows women t' abandon the baby in the hospital or fire station. If you were t' try, you'd be arrested an' prosecuted."

Murdoc felt his words die at his lips. He hadn't considered just doing it himself behind her back, but realizing that the laws only allowed the women to do it just didn't seem right. Given the opportunity, he might have attempted it at some point, he didn't doubt that. But what a double standard. If she keeps it, he's stuck with the bill but the anonymous abandonment laws only applied to the women who birthed the damned things? So they could dump it off and walk away, even if the father wanted it? But if he tried when she wanted it, he'd be prosecuted and then stuck with a support bill he didn't want or need?

2D smoked his cigarette in silence, clearly allowing Murdoc a chance to let it sink in. It made Murdoc wonder just how much the dullard and Hailey discussed unbeknownst to him. Finishing the cigarette, 2D flicked it from the rails, resting his arms onto the cool metal. "She's serious 'bout lettin' you walk 'way, mate," he said finally. "She's willin' t' take this on herself wiffout you. She's still not sure what she plans t' do herself, but if you really can't accept it, she said she had no issue wiff you takin' her back home an' partin' ways."

"That's balls an' you know it, Dents," Murdoc muttered. "Even if she was sincere in this, the state wouldn't let it go. They'd make her go after me. Or, just like every other bird I've encountered, would go after me the moment thins' got rocky." His expression became distant, a low sigh escaping from him. "Besides, mate, what can two fuck ups like us offer the damned thin'?"

"You're not a fuck up, mate," 2D said, flashing a gap-toothed smile. "An' neither is she. You can be a right bastard at times, but considerin' all you've accomplished...minus a few fins'...I tend t' fink you might actually be better at fis whole parenthood fink fan most. Same as her. Juss b'cause ever'one told you both you'd be nuffin' dun' mean it's true. Maybe it's what you an' her need?" Still smiling, he reached out, patting Murdoc's shoulders. "You dun' fool me, Muds...I know you're not willin' t' let her go juss yet. Dun' dismiss your abilities so quickly juss b'cause ever'one told you that you'd fail in life. Both of you proved them wrong so far, yeah? Well, prove them wrong 'gain."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

She was standing out on the balcony, unaware that she was being observed. It had been a rather cool and uncomfortable several weeks. Murdoc was still trying to come to grips with the news she'd shared but he also realized that he'd been thinking hard over what the dent head had said to him as well. Stu had it spot on, which surprised Murdoc. Both he and Hailey had proven everyone wrong so far and they could do it again. Considering the shit they'd overcome, this would be a cake-walk. It hadn't stopped him from occasionally dropping the occasional suggestion of a place they could take her, which only seemed to irritate her further. He knew they were pretty much out of time in regards to any medical intervention, the legal time frame running down to mere days. The only other option available had started to lose its appeal the more he thought on it. Dumping it off somewhere just as his mother had done to him. Left him to rot in the care of a monstrous drunk who started beating him as soon as he learned to crawl. Hailey wouldn't even consider the option, her own childhood in state care the driving force behind her refusal. And the more Murdoc thought on it, the more he realized he couldn't do it. The last thing he wanted was to become that fucked up old man or slag mother of his. He couldn't sentence something of his to such a fate.

So this left only one final option. Suck it up and accept it as a part of his life. And he still wasn't quite ready to come to terms with that. Several weeks ago, it was barely noticeable and now there was no way he could not notice. Every time he laid eyes on her, his gaze would fall to her mid-section, the urge to flee rearing its ugly head. He wasn't sure what he expected necessarily, he just knew that what was happening scared the bloody hell out of him and he wanted as far away from it all as possible. He'd heard nothing but horror tales about pregnant women. Hormonal, bitchy, emotional eating machines that bloated up big as houses. But other than the growing bump that now rested above the waistband of her pants, not much else about her had changed. She wasn't letting herself go, not eating him out of house and home, her emotional state still always cool and logical. He found himself more stunned at how much her stomach had grown in such a short amount of time and this solidified Hailey's claim that it most likely happened while in Seattle. It didn't change the fact that he was still desperately seeking an avenue out of the mess, the options fewer and farther between.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the sliding glass alerting her to his presence. She flashed a cool smile, returning her gaze to the miles of ocean and blue skies. They were still technically in the midst of winter, not that you'd know this with the weather at the island. The UK was rainy and dreary, her precious Seattle rainy and dreary, but Point Nemo was in full swing with blazing heat and a humidity none of them were really accustomed to. Hailey's hair clearly didn't agree with the intense humidity of the island, her thick dark hair now frizzy and out of control. The most upkeep she did was tie it into a simple ponytail. Anything beyond that would be an absolute waste of hair products and time. His eyes dropped to her stomach, feeling his own guts twist at the sight of the obvious bump. He quickly lit a cigarette, offering an extra towards her. "How you feelin' t'day, Poppet?"

"Fine." The shortness of her tone was no surprise. He knew he'd been a helluva bastard the last several weeks but surely she understood where he was coming from with this! Did she really think he'd just wake up one morning and decide to play family man? When she turned to take the cigarette offered, he caught a glimpse of warmth in her eyes, feeling some minor relief. She was a hard read, but he suspected that she understood his position more than she was letting on. Lighting the cigarette, she leaned into the rails, shifting her weight onto one leg. "I'm feeling pretty good today, actually."

"Good." Not hard to admit that he was glad to hear that. After seeing what she'd gone through the last few months, he found himself wondering just how women survived through the millenia. He'd probably off himself if he spent day in and day out either too exhausted to get out of bed or sick as a fucking dog and unable to eat. He let out a sigh, exhaling smoke into the still air. "Not gonna lie, Poppet...but I'm still not quite a hundred percent on board with this."

"If it's any consolation, I'm not either." She frowned, staring at the smoldering cigarette in her hand. "But not much we can do about it now, I guess. I'm sorry I never said anything sooner. I just didn't want to believe it."

"Hell's bells, the reality of it is starin' me in the face an' I still dun' wanna believe it." He uttered a short laugh, shaking his head. "Thin' is, when someone tells you somethin' often 'nough, you begin t' believe it. Even when you prove them wrong, deep down you think you're worthless an' undeservin' of what you accomplished." He frowned, unsure of where his thoughts were taking this. She knew all of this. She'd dealt with it herself. And just like with him, even after she'd succeeded in life, there were always those determined to kick her back to where they felt she belonged. "Been thinkin' a bit 'bout what Stu said," he said finally. "How we've proven ever'one wrong so far an' can do it 'gain...or whatever sentimental bullshit the dullard was blabbin' 'bout."

"He's not as dumb as you think," she said, flashing a small smile. "More of a pushover than anything. He's right, though." She shifted her weight to the other leg, taking a drag from the cigarette. "He says it's not as scary as we seem to think it is."

Murdoc erupted into a barking laugh. "Hailey, that idiot has fathered dozens of fuckin' kids all over the world. He pays so much in support, he sees only a portion of the royalties an' earnins' the band makes. It's not scary t' him b'cause he's fuckin' used t' it!"

Hailey stifled a laugh, choking against her cigarette. It was good to see her laugh, especially when she'd been so quiet and even a bit cold towards him. Given the seriousness of what was taking place, laughter was a good thing. Ease the tension and all that rot. Murdoc watched as she dropped a hand, gingerly touching at her mid-section. Her laughter died away, worry flickering across her face. "I'm still not sure what I feel about this. Decided long ago that I had no desire to marry, have kids or anything that everyone else seemed to want to do. Got tiresome to constantly hear about how I'd change my mind as I got older or when faced with the possibility, I'd have second thoughts." Her brow knitted together briefly, hand still lingering over her stomach. "Well, now I'm facing it and my thoughts really haven't changed. But I can't consider what few options are left either. I know what it's like to grow up thinking a part of me is missing and I just can't consider sentencing the Spawn to the same."

Murdoc cocked an eyebrow, his eyes on the hand that rested on her stomach. "The _Spawn_?" Chuckling loudly, he shook his head. Of all the things to call it. Better than giving it a name, he reasoned, but still rather amusing. He'd probably call it the same. Biting his lip, he reached out slowly, fingers grazing against the bump, noting the firmness of the skin. Soft, but hard. It felt like something foreign beneath the cotton shirt. He placed his palm flat against the bump, moving it slowly over her stomach. She stood stock still, allowing the tentative exploration. He was fully aware of how such things came to be, even right down to the whole childbirth business, but it had been something he'd had zero interest in seeing first hand or knowing about. All that rubbish talk about how beautiful it was and how wonderful it was. What was so beautiful about something the size of a melon getting pushed out of something the size of a quarter? He'd read up on it enough when he was still in school. Sounded disgusting and terrifying, really. Standing there now with his hand on her stomach didn't seem too unnerving at the moment but he wasn't too sure about sticking around for the moment of truth. His or not, he had already made up his mind to get as far away from that horror show as humanly possible.

Hailey said nothing, merely watching as his hand moved around on her stomach. No doubt she picked up on his nervous state, willing the hand to remain and let the reality of the situation sink into his frazzled brain and psyche. He was grateful that she hadn't pushed it at him. Whether it was due to her own struggle to accept it or not, he wasn't entirely sure, he just knew that she'd given him ample space. The most said on the matter had been that her offer still stood. If it was too much for him to accept, take her home and she'd deal with it herself. He was free to walk away with no obligation to it whatsoever. He'd doubted the sincerity of the offer at first but as the weeks progressed, he realized that she most likely would allow him to walk away scott free. Her state generally frowned upon lack of child support, but as long as she didn't rely on any kind of government assistance, they'd leave her be. She'd even leave his name off the birth certificate if that was what he wanted. None of this should have surprised him, but it did. He'd dealt with enough nutters in his life to doubt her.

He moved his hand to the side, fascinated with how firm the skin was all the way around. He had to admit that being this up close and personal with it was intriguing. The fight or flight reflex was still primed, but his own curiosity was getting the better of him. Nothing about it was scary now, right? She wasn't enormously huge, but the bump was just big enough to be noticed. "It feels weird," he said absently, moving his hand back to the front of her stomach. "Does it feel weird t' you?" He pressed his hand against the firm skin, raising his gaze to meet hers. "Reckon it's gotta feel odd t' you, Poppet." From beneath his hand came movement. Fleeting, almost escaping his notice. He pulled his hand away, staring at her stomach for a long moment before pressing his hand against it again. Nothing more than a small tap, just barely felt beneath the palm of his hand. "Did you feel that?" he asked, not bothering to disguise the surprise in his voice.

Hailey nodded her head. "Yeah, it does that sometimes." She seemed mostly unconcerned with it, dropping her gaze back to his hand. She probably felt a whole lot more than what he could feel. Gah, he couldn't even fathom how it felt to her. The idea of something moving around in there, getting bigger and bigger was rather unsettling. Like something straight out of an alien movie. She uttered a short laugh, smoothing her shirt across her stomach. "Moves around a bit more than I thought it would. Wakes me up at night mostly."

"Fascinatin'," he murmured, drawing his hand back. It didn't change the fact that he was scared shitless, but it was hard not to be intrigued and fascinated by what was taking place. How big was it that it could move and he could feel it? She still had at least another four and half, five months to go. It couldn't be that big, really. He only knew what he'd learned in school and maybe some after hours reading in the prison library down in Mexico, but enough to know she was still rather early. And there was the fact that she'd need to see a proper doctor, right? No way was he equipped for this. Not even the Cyborg could be programed to handle something like this. Hell, Hailey might not even let the thing near her. She made her dislike of the machine well known.

He regarded Hailey a moment, his inner thoughts conflicting with one another. He didn't want this. The whole prospect of it terrified him. But he did find the process fascinating. This thing – the Spawn – was his. The dent-head seemed confident that he'd do alright. Hailey was scared and still unsure of herself, but accepted the reality of it and wouldn't consider any other option. But christ, he didn't know the first thing about kids. And here he was, almost forty-five years old, and facing the prospect of a live, squealing newborn. No way in hell was he ready to face this! But he didn't have a choice, did he? The final option, the one that Hailey kept on the table, was to simply send her back home to deal with it herself. He wasn't sure what he felt for Hailey, but he knew he wasn't willing to toss her aside just yet. 2D's brief and enlightening lecture still bounced around in his head. And from the sound of things, he'd given a similar talk to Hailey. Prove everyone wrong. Let them all know that they weren't losers destined to repeat their pasts. Consider it a challenge to all those who doubted them. But was it fair to the Spawn to be used as a tool, especially when the odds of failure were higher with this than anything they'd ever taken on in life?

* * *

The one thing Hailey enjoyed about the study was the quiet. Never mind what chaos might be unfolding somewhere else within the house, the study was almost always silent. She stared at the laptop open in front of her, her email account flooded with messages from those wondering where she'd disappeared off to. Her old supervisor Gina, a few acquaintances from Curry's and, of course, Alicia. Emails from Alicia seemed to take over her inbox. Well over half the emails on the first page were from Alicia alone. Hailey frowned, the mouse cursor lingering over one of the many emails the woman had sent. Should she even bother to open it? She had nothing to say to her. She was curious, though, no denying that. It had been over four months since her abrupt departure out of Seattle, not a word or whisper to anyone in the city and Alicia still sent out an email hoping she'd respond. Chewing her lower lip, Hailey clicked on one of the emails dated just a few weeks ago.

_Hailey,_

_I know this is like the hundredth message I've sent, but I am hoping that if you're still alive, you'll respond. I know I said some hurtful things and I know you were upset, but you know I didn't mean them in the way you took them! And now you're gone and everyone tells me I need to accept that you don't want to speak with me. I can't shake this feeling that something terrible has happened to you and nobody will believe me. You're not one to just drop everything and leave. I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record, but I can't help it. Something just isn't right. Look, if you're out there and reading this, please contact me. Let me know you're mad and never want to speak with me again, but just respond. A simple email to tell me to fuck off would even work. I just want to make sure you're alive. _

Hailey smirked at the message, backing out and browsing through the rest of her inbox. Let her sit and stew over it. She deserved it after the things she'd said that chilly fall morning. Of course, now that the woman realized the damage she'd done, she was scrambling to recover what was lost. Well it was just too fucking late, now wasn't it? You can't just run your mouth, say horrid things about someone you call a friend and expect everything to be forgiven. Murdoc may have been her excuse to finally say what she'd said, but it was obvious she'd always felt that way about Hailey. It escaped logic, really. How could you stand there and call someone your friend and in the same breath, tell them they're nothing and unworthy of having all the normal things that everyone else has? Justifying the shit coming out of her mouth because of the things Hailey enjoyed. Hailey felt the smirk vanish, replaced by a frown. Alicia had destroyed twenty years of friendship in just a few seconds flat and now she was in a desperate bid to kiss Hailey's ass to get her to respond.

It occurred to Hailey that given the nature of her departure, most probably thought her dead. The local news channel out of Seattle only occasionally aired the little segment about her disappearance, still not fully tying it to the disastrous Gorillaz tour. Sure, they pointed out that she was last seen heading to the concert, but never put the two together. One of the pictures of her was an actual freeze frame from the hotel security footage, showing her in the lobby with Murdoc and 2D, waiting for the lift. There was even the picture taken from the costume party, Murdoc standing right beside her. But nope, not related at all. The police might very well believe there's a connection, and if they did, they weren't telling the media. But all the same, how could they have her listed as a simple missing person when all the evidence was there that Murdoc and 2D were the last ones to see her before the big disappearing act? She was another face and name on a list, nothing more. The police had numerous missing person reports to deal with and most likely focused on the ones involving children. Not some snarky and wild thirty-something with a troubled past. Alicia refused to believe she'd just drop off the face of the planet, but the police in charge of her case could very well see it differently. Sure, it was peculiar that she'd left so much behind but not entirely out of the realm of possibility that she'd just said fuck it and left. Given the nature of the blow out between her and Alicia, she didn't doubt most probably thought she'd just up and bolted.

She resumed browsing through her emails, clearing out the inbox slowly. It seemed stupid that Alicia would attempt to email her. She knew Hailey rarely ever checked the damned thing. She could go weeks or even months before deciding to check it. It was probably the only means of communication Alicia could think of since she had no other way of contacting Hailey. But why still continue to bother trying when it had been over four months and still no word from her? What was it that drove Alicia to continue to message her? Their final words sealed the deal. Hailey had made it clear what had happened would not be forgiven and forgotten. Seriously, who was the fucked up one here? Alicia thought she could degrade her lifestyle, act as if she was oh so much better than Hailey, and then when Hailey cuts loose, the woman freaks out and tries to kiss her ass? She expected Hailey to remain her lackey forever. Hailey didn't deserve normal. Hailey was too fucked up to ever have normal.

Glowering at the laptop, she closed out her email and exited out of the browser. Why was it so hard for others to understand that she just wanted to live her life as she saw fit? If it violated their overly sensitive little bubbles, who fucking cared! And since when did Alicia give a shit about Hailey's male companions or her particular tastes? It had never been an issue prior to meeting Murdoc, so what happened for Alicia to finally speak out about it? It had been no secret that she disliked the man immensely, but the short fling had been no different than the ones before him. Hailey lit a cigarette, leaning back into the comfortable leather chair, pondering over this. Alicia's bizarre flash of dislike and what one could only assume was some form of jealously had mystified her. Their shared interests aside, it had been more of a relief to connect with someone and legitimately connect. But it had been clear that Alicia saw his involvement as a threat of some kind. Alicia knew things would be short lived, so her animosity towards Murdoc had been puzzling. Utterly ridiculous. She'd seen the connection and couldn't handle it. She'd seen someone taking her place as the one Hailey could talk to. She'd seen the potential there, even if both Hailey and Murdoc hadn't caught onto tit themselves. She'd seen Murdoc as a threat to their friendship. Look what happened in the end. The dumb bitch had opened her mouth, systematically destroyed two decades of friendship and is now trying to cry foul. She'd become another asshole who felt Hailey could never amount to anything and didn't deserve all the things that _normal_ people wanted or achieved.

Rising from the desk, Hailey paced around the study, smoking her cigarette in silence. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't bitter about what had taken place. And beneath the bitterness was something akin to sadness. She'd never had many close friends, finding out quickly that even children could be just as cruel as adults. Parents who believed all the bullshit stereotypes surrounding foster children, unwilling to allow their children to get close or play with the quiet kid in the raggedy ill-fitting clothes. Children who taunted her, tormented her. Alicia had been the only real solid friendship. With that friendship disintegrating, it left her with nothing. Yeah, she was close with Gina to some extent, but they had also felt compelled to keep it more professional than anything due to the fact that Gina was her supervisor.

She'd had a rather lonely existence when you got right down to it. Only one solid friendship, no legitimate partner, her entire life centered around either working or living up the singles life. And within a matter of months, things had change abruptly. Maybe it was the isolation that brought this all to the front of her mind. After all, it was just the three of them on the island and they didn't always converse with one another. There were days when she and Murdoc wouldn't say more than two words to one another all day, each going about their own devices until meeting up in the master suite to go down for the night. It was a way to keep their sanity, to stay off each others toes. 2D didn't get this memo apparently, insisting on being in someone's presence. He tested Hailey's patience most of the time, but she understood that he just simply had to be around someone and chatting. He wasn't a loner by nature. He had to be involved and interacting with someone. He couldn't stand not having anyone around to talk with or see. As for Murdoc, he enjoyed his solitude. He was not a social butterfly by any means. Like any other human being, he did enjoy company from time to time, but much like Hailey, preferred to do his own thing. Writing music, reading or sifting through the fan mail that still trickled in.

She figured he also needed his space to sort out his thoughts on the changes taking place in his life. She'd been serious about walking away if that was what he wanted. If he truly couldn't or wouldn't handle it, he was free to take her back and they could part ways for good. It was odd that he hadn't done it yet. She figured they'd be in the sub within days of telling him. This was the same man who bragged about dodging back support for five adult kids. As a general rule, men like that rarely changed – if ever. 2D pointed out that the current situation differed slightly. As scared as the bassist was about what was happening, the one thing that stopped him from chucking her into the sub and dumping her onto the nearest dry land was the fact that he enjoyed having her around and wasn't quite ready to end whatever it was they had going on. They'd not yet given any kind of status title to their bizarre relationship, but 2D had picked up that things were different between them versus what he'd been used to seeing with the man.

Both were used to having their pick of partners. She'd been just as happy playing the field as he'd been. By choosing the remain on the island and him not sending her on her merry way, they were acknowledging some level of monogamy. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd settled with any one person for a length of time. It had been a few years. And even then, it hadn't been any kind of legitimate relationship. More of a fuck buddy type thing. Hook up when the need was too great to ignore, part ways until the next time. As for Murdoc, he'd hinted that there'd been a few exclusive relationships, the last one ending mutually four or five years ago. Given what Hailey knew of Murdoc and the other things he'd shared, this had come as a bit of a surprise. It wasn't that he was so much an unfaithful bastard as one would assume but more that he rarely ever exclusively attached himself to anyone. If you heard it from 2D, the man couldn't stay faithful if his life depended on it. He'd witnessed many one night stands between Murdoc and the bolder of the female fans. The singer was a fine one to talk, though, right? He was no better or worse in this regard. The way Hailey looked at it, if any of the women were foolish enough to believe they were an item, that was on them. She understood enough of the entertainment business to realize that in order for the record executives to push this product, you couldn't have them attached (or at least have the public aware that they were attached).

Murdoc enjoyed his freedom and didn't see the women who accosted him after the shows worthy of much more than a few quick rounds in the dressing room. If he fancied the girl enough, he might keep her around for a short period of time, but almost always cast them aside and moved on to something different. Only a few had proven themselves worthy enough to remain. He'd been burnt enough times that his trust in most women was practically non-existent. He'd dealt with crazies who wouldn't leave him be, been robbed and had even gotten into physical altercations with the boyfriends or husbands he didn't know the women had. He'd dealt with clingy women who flipped out if he so much as talked to his band mates, women who tried to trap him with paternity claims thinking it would make him stick around with them. It was no wonder the man kept the women at arms length, really. And though Hailey found herself curious as to what it had been about the few who'd been lucky enough to call him their partner, she never voiced her curiosity. It wasn't any of her business. He never badgered her about the men before him so there was absolutely no reason to badger him about the women before her. They were both adults with very experienced pasts and only young and immature little assholes made a huge stink about shit that happened before them.

Stepping out onto the balcony, Hailey flicked her cigarette from the rails. She wasn't naïve enough to believe they were an item of any kind. Mostly thrown together by circumstance. They never discussed what they were, even with things taking the more serious turn. She supposed they must have had something interesting going on if he hadn't cast her aside yet, but it was difficult to say. It was almost laughable that she'd based most of her opinion about the musician off what she'd heard and read. Meeting him in the flesh had been an oddly sobering experience. Nothing at all like the image he presented once he let some of the walls down. He had his own share of troubles, flaws and insecurities. Each day, each week, each passing month revealed more and more. Whether he revealed these things out of trust or simply because she was there to lend an ear, she didn't know. Some of the things were amusing and quaint. A receding hairline that he was extremely self conscious about, hence the outdated cut. The little bit of grey she could see was nothing. He dyed his hair before interviews and shows. He'd openly avoided the younger female fans out of fear they were under age and the fact that his mind connected them with his guitarist. He had poor vision out of one eye due to the abuse from his father and brother. He dealt with some aches and pains associated with age. Getting older scared the hell out of him.

All these things little tidbits that made him who he was. Things that only a few people knew. Things that not even 2D was aware of. The other thing, the one that seemed to stick out the most, was the fact that he had no qualms about settling down but had been burnt enough times that he often sabotaged the relationships to keep them from hurting him first. The last serious relationship – the one that ended mutually – had gone through many ups and downs over the two years they'd been together, most of which due to his own actions. The mystery woman had seen through it and stuck it out, proving to him that not all women were out to take him for everything he had. The relationship had fizzled, but it had stuck with him. He'd been loved and wanted and he didn't know how to process it. The end of the relationship had left him confused and angry because as much as they'd tried, nothing they'd done had been able to salvage it. Yes, they'd ended things mutually, but it had hurt. And for him, this meant shoving it down, ignoring it and fucking every woman that crossed his path. Picking back up into the old lifestyle that never brought happiness but at least kept the pain at bay.

Hailey could admit that she didn't fully understand that kind of hurt. She'd never gotten emotionally involved, unwilling to let anyone close enough to cause that kind of pain. For her, the men had been disposable. Much easier this way than dealing with all the baggage and bullshit that came with a relationship. Yeah, things were different at the moment, but she didn't have enough invested to get her hopes up that what they had was anything other than a short fling that could fizzle just as easily. She cared about him, sure, but it didn't mean they had something solid. The only thing that worried her was the fear that he might have more invested into their little thing than she did. She wasn't sure what she'd do if this were the case.


End file.
